This is Us
by birchermuesli
Summary: It's our last year at Hogwarts, and against everything that my mind is frantically telling me, I'm now falling for James Potter. He's dating another girl. Now, what in Merlin's name has gone wrong with the world?
1. Dance

**This is Us**

_by birchermuesli_

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**Title: **This is Us  
**Author: **birchermuesli  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Romance/Humour  
**Disclaimer: **_This is Us _is a fanfiction based upon characters and situations owned or created by J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. Inc., Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**Author's Notes:**

**Hello everybody, I'm back! This is just a little something that I wrote on a whim this morning, but at any rate I do hope that you enjoy it. :)**

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**Dance.**

I've never liked a dance – especially the ballroom type. My feet generally seem to find themselves terribly muddled and confused (they really are quite a great reflection of their owner) and I wind up most of the time taking a brilliant, brilliant land.

On my arse.

Yeah. Like what will inevitably happen now, for instance.

Because I was at that _stupid _ball which James Potter _stupidly _proposed to have, in light of Gryffindor's Quidditch Cup victory. Or, if you like, he marched the idea up to Professor McGonagall with my utter lack of consent, and of course McGonagall was all too pleased to accept the idea. Anything to celebrate a Gryffindor-Slytherin triumph.

Hmph.

And so during the aforementioned ball, _stupid _James Potter with that unnervingly handsome face walked up to me, who previously was cowering away into the shadow of a dark corner. Without even asking (yet again - he seemed to be making a habit out of that) he tugged my arm towards the dance floor.

And – just my luck – when get there a slow song began to play.

I don't know. Does he just _plan _it like that?

Or maybe I just hope that he did.

Obviously I couldn't run away, because my face was burning, I was shaking and I had become a hot puddle mixed with embarrassment, nervousness and all sorts of lusty emotions which I absolutely shouldn't have been and couldn't have been feeling towards Mr. James Potter.

There are many reasons for this, including:

1. Well, he's _James Potter. _The world must not be so cruel as to make me fall for such an obnoxious boy with such a ridiculously large fan club.

2. My pathetic puddle of lusty emotions would be entirely drowned out by my puddle of utter embarrassment and humiliation if he ever found out, which with his intelligence and perceptiveness I'm sure that he will.

3. But most, most, most of all? He has a girlfriend.

4. Yes. James Potter has a _girlfriend. _(And it's not me.)

5. A GIRLFRIEND.

6. She's bloody perfect. Rhiannon deLoreche, Sixth Year Hufflepuff student. Not the prettiest or the smartest girl out there, but everybody likes her anyway because she's just so damn nice and likeable and happy all the time_. _Even _I _can't help but like her. Trust Potter to choose the irritatingly perfect girls.

7. And she's just got such a unique name, as well – _Rhiannon deLoreche_. Sounds all elegant and lovely and just rolls off your tongue so nicely, but if you would ever look up her surname in a French dictionary (which I in fact did, with the great help of my lovely library who, unlike James Potter, will never desert me) you'd discover that 'de Loreche' means 'of the rock'. That gives even more points for Rhiannon deLoreche because she's elegant but so cool and rebel-like, _of the rock, _at the very same time.

8. Now, how am I supposed to compete with that? I am so ordinary that it's a joke. I am of an ordinary height, five-feet-five-inches; I have an ordinary face, not too ugly, not too pretty (_definitely _not too pretty); and really, the only thing that sticks out about me is my hair.

9. It's wavy and the colour of an ugly, blushing carrot.

10. Yes, that's me. I am Lily Evans.

Oh, look at me now – I'm misusing my numbers and I've personified a library. What in Merlin's name has gone wrong?

But back to my first point. Potter and Black – their fan clubs are quite astonishingly large, actually. I think it's just a rather interesting thing to point out, not that it relates back to anything. Most of them go for both – Potter-and-Black – and others claim to be purely only Potter or only Black fans. 'Jamesy' and 'Siri', to be precise. Some declare that they are entirely repulsed by both Potter and Black, but in fact harbour a secret attraction, unbeknownst to anyone else.

That's me.

_Not _Sirius – don't make me shudder till the next century, please. No, only James.

Still, how terribly mortifying.

Mortifying.

Utterly_ mortifying._

One day, somebody should make a Venn diagram just to see exactly how many of these people there are in Hogwarts – ones that are associated in some way with the Potter and Black spell, that is. I would be interested to calculate the probabilities of them having a serious chance – pah, more like a one night fling – with either of them.

So, back to what I was trying to say before. James and I – oh, it feels so _nice_ to say that – James and I were dancing. Or rather, he had grabbed my waist with one of those knowing grins of his and ordered, "Dance." My cheeks still flushing the colour of beetroot red, I put my hands around his neck and tipped my head up ever-so-slightly to meet his gleaming, mischievous gaze.

See? We were even at the perfect height for each other. Not too tall, not too short. Stupid Rhiannon 'of the rock' deLoreche was the height of a giraffe, just slightly taller than James. And I am a big, big supporter of shorter-girls-taller-guys. Especially when it comes to… well, no matter about that.

So here I was trembling as much as the first time I mounted a broomstick, and here was James looking so hot and sexy in his ironed white shirt, with the first two buttons unbuttoned.

Or was it three?

"Nice night, eh Evans?" he remarked as we rocked along to the beat, me stumbling over his feet every so often and him ignoring it every time. The song we were dancing to was called _Time for Some Magic _by Minimal Maestros – an old favourite of mine.

He probably knew that.

"Why did you, why did you…" I stuttered, quickly averting my gaze from his face. Bad decision – it went to his chest instead, which, at my proximity to him and the added fact that two of his buttons were unbuttoned, I could partially see at a very, very nice view.

"Why did I what?"

My cheeks burned even more, if that was even possible. "Why did you bring me out here to dance?" I wailed. "You _know _that I'm terrible at this stuff!"

"Do I really know that, sweet Lily?" he said, and even though it was in an obvious mocking tone my heart couldn't help but jump a little. James pulled me in a little closer. "You never dance with me," he continued cheerfully.

"For a good reason, too," I grumbled, glaring daggers at the ground.

"But Lily, the Head Boy and Head Girl have got to have at least one dance together! I'm sure it's a tradition of some sorts—"

"You're positively medieval!" I interrupted with a snap, shifting my fierce glower to his face.

But then I was met with those large and soft hazel eyes, and my mind went black. My eyes widened and my lips parted a little.

Damn that James Potter. I would _not _fall for him.

My mouth shut immediately, and I hardened my jaw in a determined manner. James once told me back in Sixth Year that I did that all the time during exams.

James cocked an eyebrow at this, but it didn't deter him. "Maybe medieval is the new thing, then?" he replied seriously. "Because the last time I checked, the fan club standings were quite high. Forty-six, I believe?"

"Fifty-three," I muttered back.

I heard a laugh. Then the slow song drew to an end, and my inner shameless self sulked a little when James' hands departed from the small of my back. They ruffled my hair a little. "Nice dancing with you, Evans," he said with a small tip of his head. He grinned. "You're fantastic. Just a natural, really."

I blink in the realisation that no, I did _not _in fact land on my buttocks this time round.

How strange.

* * *

"This dance, or formal, or ball, or whatever you call it," announced Alice, "is the most boring thing I have ever been to." She knocked her head lightly against the wall, closing her eyes and letting a soft groan out from her lips. "I mean, honestly, there aren't even any good guys around."

"You're only saying that because Frank isn't here," I said, aimlessly gazing over the crowd. James and Rhiannon were doing a horrible imitation of the salsa to what was a very Latin-Americanish type song.

Okay, fine. So it wasn't horrible. He was a damn good dancer, and she was a damn good dancer. Only _I _had two left feet.

James whispered something into Rhiannon's ear, and I watched closely as her eyes widened and she let out a small giggle, slapping him lightly on the arm. Wuss. At least I could hit harder than that.

"Evans!" a cheery voice interrupted my thoughts. "I've heard that your skills in dancing absolutely surpass the imagination. May I?"

I groaned, flicking my eyes towards the boy in front of me. Tall, dark, handsome - Sirius Black. His eyebrows were raised, and a small smirk was playing on his lips.

Sirius and I had gotten closer in the past few months – I don't know if it was because he wanted to get on my good side so that I would feel guilty to give him a detention when catching him snogging a girl (which was definitely not an uncommon occurrence), or if he genuinely decided that I was, well, an _okay _girl to hang around with. After I had, as Sirius had put it, "pulled the stick out of my arse", I found that he was actually quite a nice guy to hang around with. He was funny, smart and likeable, and sometimes I just couldn't help but take a mild fascination to how many girls he had actually managed to make out with in an entire school year.

"Fifty-three," he had said to me last night with a proud voice. We were by the Gryffindor fire, having just finished our Charms essay. Or rather, I had been busily writing up the Charms essay whilst he waited for James to come back after Quidditch practice so that they could plot a couple of pranks together. Psh, boys.

I cocked an eyebrow, not impressed. "Fifty-three?"

"Yeah," he continued. "Every member of my fan club."

"Ha ha, Black. You just crack me up with your wit." I tipped my head. "But really," I said, not able to contain my curiosity. "What do you _see _in them? Why do you even bother to waste your night like that?"

"It's great exercise, snogging fifty-three girls in a year," he replied solemnly, and placed a hand to his chest. "Especially with me not doing Quidditch."

"You did not snog fifty-three girls, Black."

"Did so," he bit back.

"How's Prongs?" voiced Sirius in real life, bringing me back out of my thoughts.

My face turned an unsightly shade of red. Luckily it wasn't dark in the place we were standing, though I suspected he knew anyway. I shot him a challenging glance. "How's Emmeline?" I countered, ignoring his last question.

Sirius' face immediately fell a little beneath that mask of ease. "Don't know, don't care," he replied back in an unruffled tone.

Yeah, right.

I bit back a grin, instead choosing to tease him more instead. Emmeline Vance was one of Sirius' few soft spots – he had, despite what his latest snogging adventures may suggest, a _huge _crush on her. He refused to admit it, but I just knew. Maybe it's a girl thing.

"Emmeline's looking pretty hot right now, isn't she?" I commented cheerfully.

Sirius' gaze shifted to her. She was up at the table getting a drink. I watched with some amusement as Amos Diggory walked up from behind her, gently tugging at the beauty of her chocolate brown hair which was done up for the occasion. She spun around, looking slightly surprised. He unsuccessfully attempted to start up a conversation.

Sirius' smirk was open now. "Ah, don't I love it when Diggory gets rejected," he said, stretching out his arms above his head with a contented sigh. "Never gets old."

"It never _happens._"

"Until now."

"Or until the girl decides to ditch him to become one of many members of your fan club."

Sirius grinned, nodding at me appraisingly. "You know," he turned to Alice, thrusting a thumb at me, "the girl can actually be quite smart at times. Did you know that? She's bagged the Head Girl role, gets stunning grades, knows a good man when she sees one—"

"Really?" said Alice.

"Well, of course. Ever since this year she's been absolutely _mad _over Pr—"

"What?" I cut in sharply.

Alice let out a small giggle, then shook her head knowingly at me. "I'm off, you guys. See you." She left, heading towards Emmeline.

Sirius turned to me, all cheerful now. "Problem, Evans?"

I sighed. "If you just came over here to tease me about _made-up theories on your part, _Black, then you might as well just go now." I backed up that oh-so-impressive speech with a swift glare.

"You know, Evans, I was going to ask you for a dance since it would absolutely _devastate _me to see a girl like you all alone on a night like this." Sirius winked. "But," he continued in a lower voice, "just between you and me, I think Prongs would be awfully upset if I did. So _au revoir _then, I guess. Have fun."

Almost instantly, I jumped to my feet as if someone had just woken me up from a nightmare. Then Sirius was gone within a flash.

What?

_What had he just said?_

"Hey, Black!" I called out, but he couldn't hear me with the loud music beating in the room.

Suddenly feeling incredibly overwhelmed, I shut my eyes and turned towards the wall.

No. He _must _have been lying. But nevertheless, please excuse me whilst I attempt in vain to contain the many mini explosions of my now-frazzled heart. It's been a long night.

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**Hope you enjoyed, and have a great day. :)**

**~ birchermuesli**


	2. A Drink Too Many

**Thanks you guys for the great response, you have no idea how happy this makes me. I'm trying my best to write as fast as I can, so keep posted! :)**

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**A Drink Too Many:**

"You need to rest," insisted James as he pulled me out of the Great Hall into a dark corridor. His hand was warm but not sweaty, and it had a firm hold on my wrist. Any time I would've loved to revel in the sensation of this, but right now it was the last thing that I wanted.

"Let go of me!" I snapped, tugging sharply at his grip. He didn't budge. "Seriously, what is your problem?"

James skidded to a stop, turning around to regard me in a very definite manner. "Lily, stop it. You're drunk."

I gritted my teeth before spitting, "No I bloody well am not!"

Because really, I wasn't drunk. What possessed him to think that I was drunk?

James' lips twitched, but he didn't say anything else. I tried tugging my wrist away from him again, but again he didn't move.

Emmeline came to the rescue, winding out from the Great Hall where the dance was taking place. She looked surprised to see us there. "Hey, you guys!" she exclaimed, and made her way over to us.

"Hey there," said James. "Why are you here?"

"Sirius was hitting on me," she replied dismissively with an airy wave of one hand. "You know, the usual. Anyway, what's up?"

"Potter," I snarled, fighting against James' grip, "thinks that I'm _drunk, _and has just dragged me away to here from the Hall to put me to _bed._"

There was an awkward silence before James coughed slightly and muttered, "I never said anything about putting you to bed."

I felt my face redden, but going against all instincts I turned on James again, narrowing my eyes at him. "You are a rapist," I spat, shaking my wrist-under-hostage. "See? You are a bloody _rapist _with a stupid, _stupid_ rock of a girlfriend."

"Rock?"

"Yes, rock."

"Uh, Lily?" interrupted Emmeline, looking uncomfortable.

"What?"

She hesitated before continuing. I knew that something was up. "I think that you really _are _drunk," she finished.

I couldn't believe it.

She had betrayed me – my best mate had _betrayed _me.

What happened to girl power? What happened to us females sticking together in our dire times of need?

I didn't say any of this, but I'm sure that Emmeline would have seen it all in the scandalised glare I shot back at her. It wasn't as if she hadn't received the speech say, oh, ten or twenty times in the past.

Suddenly, my head began to throb. James, Emmeline and the corridors around me spun in my view. I blinked quickly several times over and made a little choking sound, feeling rather queasy. James' hand disappeared immediately from my wrist and to move to my back, but I didn't pay attention to it because I was too busy trying not to vomit onto his shoes. "Lily," I heard him say urgently. "Lily, are you okay?"

I doubled over, probably looking like I was in the midst of labour. "Shit," I wheezed, grabbing onto Emmeline's shoulder as another bout of dizziness swept over me. I spluttered some more. "I really – I really am drunk, aren't I?"

James laughed lightly. "You were downing the alcohol back there like it was water, love. Of course you're drunk."

"But I only had four glasses!"

"In the space of what? Five minutes?"

"Ten," I replied stubbornly.

"Hate to break it to you, but that's a hugeload for a small bird like you to take in such a short time."

Emmeline patted my back, knocking James' hand off as if it were just a nuisance fly. It made me want to sulk and vomit all over her pretty blue dress. "Go back, James," she said. "I'll take Lily to the dormitory."

"No," I said immediately without thinking.

"Yeah," agreed James, though I could detect a very amused tone in his voice. "After all, it's my duty as Head Boy to ensure that the Head Girl arrives to her dormitory safe and sound, on the days that she's feeling particularly ill."

Bastard – he was mocking me. Lecturing about Head Duties, what a hypocrite. So he's allowed to be all lazy and tune out when _I'm _trying to lecture him, but when _he _gives the boring speeches we're all supposed to listen.

Typical.

Emmeline cocked an eyebrow.

"Furthermore," he continued in his Head Boy voice, straightening his back in an authorative figure, "it is forbidden for anybody to roam the corridors after ten o'clock at night, save the Head Girl and me. I must now ask you to either retreat to your dormitory or return back to the Great Hall."

Emmeline cocked her other eyebrow.

"Oh, bloody hell," I muttered. The strange spell of sickness had finished, and I felt slightly better than before. "You'd better go, Em, before he starts to hand out detentions."

She met my gaze with concern. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

I smiled wryly. "As okay as I can be, yeah."

I didn't bother telling her that I just wanted to enjoy the feeling of James' warm hand on my back again. It was hardly worth mentioning.

* * *

The next day, I woke up feeling like someone had just taken a giant shit on my face.

Why did no one tell me that hangovers were so unbelievably horrid?

A loud groan escaping out from my mouth, I rolled myself out of bed and crawled across the room. The morning sun that filtered through the window was a painful, blinding glare. My eyes were squinting, and I had drool coming down from the right side of my mouth.

How charming.

With a great exertion of effort, I managed to rise to my knees for a split second to grab the hand mirror sitting on the bathroom bench. I fumbled with it, having to use both hands to hold it in front of my face.

Then I saw the reflection that stared back at me. Or squinted, more like.

Oh my Merlin. I was _not _attractive_._

Time for a shower.

* * *

Do you know what the _really _depressing thing is?

Until this year, James absolutely adored me. Worshipped the ground I walked on. He would ask me out every living moment of my life – between classes, during meals, after school. Girls went crazy over him, and for a good reason too: he was undeniably and shockingly good-looking, pulling off the messy haired just-got-out-of-bed look to ultimate perfection, he was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he received top grades in school without even trying, and along with Sirius he was one of the most entertaining, liked students in our year level. Hell, _everybody _like James Potter.

Except for me.

I know. Stupidity – utter and complete _stupidity. _I loathed the boy. I snapped at him. I frequently instigated shouting matches between us when he would ask me out, often in front of many of our classmates. It irritated me to no end – I somehow had the idea that he was just doing all of it to just show off. Maybe he was. Maybe I was just something to chase, and each time I said "No" it would fuel him more to try and woo me in all different ways to get me to change my mind to a "Yes".

Because really, James Potter was an incredibly arrogant person. Funny and talented, yes, but that didn't take away the fact that he had a head the size of Jupiter. He _knew _that he was good at everything, he _knew _that girls fawned over him. He encouraged it, actually, with small winks and suggestive comments here and there.

Stupid irresistible man-whore.

But then this year came along. James returned with the Head Boy title, a newfound responsibility and… a newfound love.

Yes, you guessed right. His rock.

And I guess this would be the time where I would say, oh, thank heavens for that, I think I was about to spontaneously combust if James Potter asked me to go on another Hogsmeade trip with him. Or maybe I could even throw in a snide comment about deLoreche – how of _course _James Potter would choose a pretty, _perfect_ girl to be his girlfriend, because he was just so shallow like that.

But you know what? I didn't, because at that very moment of seeing her fingers intertwined with his and those mischievous lips whispering all sorts of dirty things into her ear, my heart stopped. It was one of those times where everything comes crashing down to you, your head spins, and _pop! _jumps out the epiphany.

All this time, _I liked James Potter._

All those screaming matches, all those horrid retorts I would spit back at him whenever he threw a comment about how beautiful I was looking or how just one look at me would brighten up his day (yes, James Potter was one for very exaggerated shows) – I had _enjoyed _it. Somewhere buried deep down in my subconscious, I had fancied the pants off James Potter.

And I still do.

He's not even nasty to me – in fact, he acts all the same, minus the flirtatious remarks. It's probably what hurts most. I'm just a friend_, _a silly redhead who he likes to make fun of.

Now instead of being angry at him, I wither up under the dreamy gaze of his hazel-green eyes and am reduced to a pathetic, nervous stuttering five-year-old.

I just pray, pray, _pray _that he won't find out.

Oh, Merlin. I should really just snag a boyfriend to distract me from all of this, shouldn't I?

If anyone would even want me, of course. After all, nobody likes blushing carrots these days.

* * *

"Lilykins," said James seriously, reaching for another slice of toast, "we need to get you a boyfriend."

It was breakfast, and James had called a 'meeting' to discuss Prefects Rounds for the upcoming week. Pah. Any reason to gloat over his non-drunken state. Of course _he _didn't have a terrible hangover, because _he _was so perfect and never ever screwed anything up.

Except for maybe Rhiannon deLoreche.

I groaned, clutching my head as if someone had just hit it across with a heavy truncheon. My face felt cakey and dry, and my lips parched. Even the shower wasn't able to take away that feeling. Feebly, I reached out for the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of me and raised it to my mouth, arm shaking. "Leave me alone," I said in a croaky voice. "I'm not that much of a social deficient for you to have to set me up with somebody."

James pressed his lips together as if having to fight back laughter. "Really?" he said, and indicated his head towards me. "In the current state you're in?"

"Yes," I seethed. "Men just fall at my feet, Potter."

"No. I think you're muddling things up – _women _fall at _my _feet, Lilykins."

"You wish."

"I _know._"

"Pig."

James placed a hand to his chest. "Handsome blokes like me," he said with a feigned importance (though it probably wasn't feigned for him), "just have to face the truth, whether they like it or not."

It was enough to tip the balance. I narrowed my eyes at him and slammed down the goblet. Pumpkin juice jumped out to the table. "Well why don't you just go _snog _all of them, then?" I snapped. "You'd sure be facing the truth."

James looked a little surprised at my outburst, but he probably just assumed that I was overly crotchety today because of the hangover. "Because I have a girlfriend already," he replied simply. Then he grinned. "Really, that would hardly be appropriate. Lilykins, I'm ashamed of you. Thought you had more sense than that."

I just sat there, glaring at him.

"So," he continued cheerfully. "I say that it's a great time to get you a boyfriend. How about Remus?"

Remus.

_Remus._

Now, _that _brought me out of my sulky state.

"Remus?" I spluttered, jaw dropping wide open. "Are you – are you _mad_?"

"Well, why not, Lilykins?"

"Are you – are you – James, he's your best mate!"

"All the more reason for you to date him," he replied smoothly. "It'll be great, our small family. I'd be like your brother-in-law."

I did not, did NOT want James to be an in-law of mine in any form.

"And plus," continued James. "Remus is so studious. And he's quiet and kind to everybody… not too bad on the eyes as well. He's everything _you _would want in a guy, isn't he?" He tipped his head thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I choose my friends really well."

"Remus," was all I could say in a flat tone. "You want me to date Remus."

"Got a problem with him?"

"No!" I said immediately, cheeks flushing. "It's just that – just that—"

James' eyes widened. "Oh no," he said, shaking his head quickly. "You like somebody else, don't you?"

_"No!"_

"Who is it? Whenever girls tell me this it's always to hint that it's either Sirius or me."

"James," I broke in. "I didn't _hint _anything—"

"But this is you we're talking about." A slow grin spread across his face. "Then again," he said mockingly, "you could've fallen for my manly charm just as I stopped chasing you around for the first time in six years. So we can't be too sure."

I knew that he was joking. But by hell_, _did it give me a heart attack. So I did anything to distract him – _anything _to steer him away from what he had been blabbering out as the truth.

Call me stupid, whatever, but a girl's just got to do what a girl's got to do.

"No," I said, and straightened my back. I tried to look nervous and embarrassed, which wasn't hard as my face was burning at probably three hundred degrees centigrade.

"What?"

"Um, I really don't know how to say this. And please don't go telling the whole world or I might just go bury myself in a hole, and then I would suffocate with all the dirt in my mouth and it'll all be your fault…" I trailed off, seeming completely lost and shaken.

And it wasn't as if I was acting, really. I _was _completely lost and shaken.

James gave me a questioning look.

"I – I like Remus," I stuttered. "Liked him for a long time, actually."

There. I had done it.

Biggest lie of the whole, _bloody_ century.

A strange expression passed James' face as I uttered those words out loud, but I guessed that it was just the weirdness of realising that the girl he had been madly infatuated with for the past six years had already liked one of his best mates the entire time.

Then he let out a huge breath of disbelief, and began to laugh.

Really, _really _loudly.

"Well then," he said after two whole minutes of girly cackling (which he would call manly laughter), with me sitting there in front of him in that puddle of embarrassment I was talking about earlier, wondering why the hell I had gotten myself into this and desperately wishing that I was still sound asleep in my bed. "It's settled then, yes? This Saturday, Hogsmeade weekend – make sure you're all dolled up."

"Huh?"

"Well, you'll be on a date with Remus," he said in an obvious tone. "Actually, we'll do doubles. I'll bring Rhiannon along."

I froze.

He was mad. The boy was absolutely _mad._

"Sorry, what?" I whispered.

There was no way in shitting hell that I would go on a date with Remus Lupin.

James regarded me with amusement. "Well, you like him, don't you? And he likes you enough… as a, uh, study partner."

Oh no.

Oh no no no no _no._

I shook my head feverishly over and over again, but he just ignored me.

"Evans," said James firmly, "you're putting far too much energy into schoolwork. Go live life a little."

And with that, I slumped down in rejection, staring moodily into my lap.

Well, looks like my Saturday's all booked out now. No more time to write that Potions essay.

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**I love you guys so much, and thanks for reading. :) Have a GREAT day! **

**~ birchermuesli**


	3. Bloody Mornings

**You all have convinced me to write more. I would begin to express my utmost gratitude and sentiments towards all you reviewers, but then I'm afraid we may have to devote an entire chapter to that. So let's just have you know that I love you from the very depths of my heart and proceed on, shall we? Enjoy. :)**

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**Chapter Three - Bloody Mornings:**

I didn't know what to wear.

It was seven o'clock on Friday morning, but I was already panicking over what to wear to Hogsmeade tomorrow. There was, in fact, a valid and completely legitimate reason for this – I couldn't _find _any clothes that didn't make me look like a fat lumpy crab.

In fifteen minutes it would be time for me to have my breakfast. Really, class actually starts at nine o'clock, but it's always so soothing to have a heap of spare time on your hands. Spare time to do such things as, say, ogle James Potter as he descends from the boys' dormitories one hour later in his dreary, early morning glory. Oftentimes I catch him halfway in the process of slipping a shirt on his _previously bare upper body._

How drool-worthy. Now you can understand why I love mornings, right?

I checked my watch – it was ten minutes till breakfast. Emmeline's groan was heard to my side as she rolled around in her bed, pulling her blanket over her eyes. Hastily, I took the large pile of clothing which was now spilling over the edges of my bed and quickly pushed it back into my wardrobe, shutting the door behind.

"Lil?" a voice said from behind.

"ARGH!" I shrieked, and tripped over my feet in surprise. I landed on the hard, cold surface of the ground in an ungraceful heap of tangled limbs.

You see, this is why I don't like surprises.

It was Alice. She was by the bathroom door, regarding me quizzically with a large white towel wrapped up in a coil over her head. The colour of the towel blended in perfectly with her milky white skin, and a few droplets of water from her wet hair trickled down the side of her face. The sight of her would have almost been comical, if there wasn't a far more frightening issue on my mind.

I had been caught in the act. I had been _caught in the act_.

Alice's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing," I said immediately. "Why?"

"Nice morning, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes," I nodded back a little too enthusiastically. "Stunning. Hey, what are you doing up so early?"

Alice just shook her head. "Don't worry, just couldn't sleep. So, do you want to explain…" she paused, gesturing at my now-empty bed as she struggled to locate a fitting word – "_this_?"

"This?" I echoed back innocently.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, this. Why did I just see you half a minute ago with the entire contents of your wardrobe spilled out on your bed? We all know that you hate clothes, Lil."

"Hey, I resent that!" I argued, placing my hands on my hips. "I like clothes. I mean, without them we would have to walk around completely naked, right? And who's to say that a girl like me can't appreciate her fair share of fashion every now and then?"

"Right, you _can _have your fair share," said Alice, "but don't ever do."

"Excuse me?"

She cocked an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall. "Lily," she said flatly. "We've known you for seven years now. Stop trying to act all innocent and unknowing. The only items of clothing you ever, ever wear are your uniform." She tipped her head in contemplation. "You _probably _own a pair of jeans as well, though my memory might have failed me on that point."

Psh.

Psh, psh, psh.

How _ridiculous_.

Everybody in this school seems to take whatever Alice says with absolute faith. I don't know why – maybe it's the blonde hair and large, doe-like brown eyes that give her the appearance of complete innocence.

But do not be fooled. She's not all angelic and subdued as you might think.

And she definitely wasn't being that now – in fact, what Alice was at the moment was a _liar._

A big, fat liar.

(She's not fat, though. So just a big liar.)

Let me have you know that I do _not _wear my uniform around every day, and certainly not on weekends. I merely have a very convenient philosophy that values simplicity at its best. Thus, wearing uncomfortable high heels and layering seventy-five skimpy pieces of clothing for the pure sake of looking 'good' – which is, might I add, a completely subjective opinion – is just not for me.

I mean, I probably save half an hour a day not doing what normal (or _ab_normal, ha!) girly girls do every morning – clothes, makeup, beauty routine, blah blah blah. That's equivalent to three and a half hours a week, which is equivalent to almost eight WHOLE days each year.

Can you imagine how many Charms or Potions essays I could've gotten done in that time?

And they ask me why I'm smart. Pah. It's all in the priorities_, _darlings. I am _far _from intelligent.

I tell all of this to Alice, but she remained unimpressed. "That doesn't explain why you've taken a sudden interest to dressing yourself up, you idiot," was her reply.

I huffed to communicate my disapproval at her utter rudeness, but she just ignored this – as per usual.

I know, I have such disrespectful friends. How I tolerate them is just beyond me.

I sighed, and shook my head at her. "Look," I said exasperatedly. "Maybe I just… want to look nice, for once."

She looked suspicious. Stupid girl was too smart for her own good. "You always said that you looked perfectly fine, though."

"Maybe I want to look _nicer, _then."

"Right," she said in a skeptical tone.

"You don't believe I would do that?"

"Frankly? Not a bit."

"_Fine_," I snapped, finally losing my cool. "For Merlin's bloody sake. It's Hogsmeade tomorrow, alright? I've got a date."

Only _then _was I granted silence.

Alice froze and her mouth dropped open. The towel on her head unravelled at the sudden movement and dropped over to her face to the ground, earning a small chuckle from me.

She pushed the tangled wet blonde hair out from her face. "A – a date?" she spluttered, blinking rapidly several times over. "You have a _date_?"

Well, aren't we all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said stiffly. "Didn't know that I was that unattractive."

Alice was still too speechless to respond to my sarcasm. "You, you – a date? But who, Lil? And by bloody Merlin, _how?_"

"Don't tell anyone," I grumbled. "If you do, this'll spread through the school like wildfire."

_"You're going on a date with James?"_

"NO!" I near-shouted, cheeks instantly flushing up. "You guys need to bloody stop going on about James and me! That was _ages _ago, and at any rate, he's got a girlfriend. And," I said quickly, seeing a suspicious look pass through Alice's face, "that's gross. Ew. Date with James Potter. What is your problem, seriously?"

Alice fixed a steady look on me for several more moments, before sighing out loudly. "Okay, then," she said. "So who is it?"

"Um," I replied slowly. "It's – it's Remus."

I just _knew _that a bad reaction would come out of this. Alice and Emmeline had been teasing me for years about the friendship between Remus and me. Because we had the majority of our N.E.W.T. classes in common, we studied together in the library _all _the time. Like every-single-day all the time.

Okay, maybe not every day. Every other day, perhaps. But it wasn't as if I _like _liked him or anything (though he was actually extremely good-looking, with sandy blonde hair and striking ocean blue eyes that I have to admit I had fallen deeply for during the greater part of our Second Year). Forgive a girl if she simply wants to work hard on her academics with one of the three smartest boys in the school. The other two were James and Sirius, of course, but studying with _them _was obviously out of the question.

Alice and Emmeline were absolutely convinced that there was something going on between us (me and Remus, that is) – like a secret romantic love cultivated by our common passion towards Arithmancy, or something equally as strange as that. But that clearly wasn't true.

And if you, reader, decide to go against me and join the Alice-and-Emmeline-forces, please go die in a hole and stop reading this NOW.

Furthermore, if you ship James and La Rock? Leave. Leave. _Leave._

Lovely. Now that that's settled, we can continue.

So, you would naturally see why me going on a date with Remus Lupin would shock Alice so.

My shoulders stiffened up slightly, and I tensely waited for it – the gasps, the shrieks of utter astonishment and disbelief that would ring across the room. But instead?

Nothing. Just nothing.

Alice stared at me. She opened her mouth to say something, but it appeared that she was as wordless as the first time I dropped the Hogsmeade date bomb on her.

Ha _ha_! And it's not every day that that happens! Highly content with myself for the time being, I shut my eyes and relished in the triumphant feeling that rendering one's unspeechless friends speechless tends to bring.

Then I opened my eyes again with a smirk, wondering how this would play out.

Alice blinked, and stared some more. "Remus?" she said in a flat tone.

'Remus'. That's all I get? That's ALL I get?

Well, how anticlimactic.

"But why _Remus_?" continued Alice, looking increasingly flabbergasted.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You and Emmeline were the ones who wouldn't stop teasing me about the so-called undying love between us, you know. Just saying."

"Yeah, that was a joke – we didn't expect you to take our advice for real!"

"Well," I said irritably, "maybe I did." I stole a glance at her and couldn't help but feel a _teensy _bit sorry for the poor girl's shocked expression, so I added grudgingly, "I don't actually like him. Potter's just trying to set us up."

Strangely enough, Alice was back to her usual self within seconds. I couldn't understand why. She grinned and nodded, again giving me that same knowing glance that she had the night of the dance when I had been talking to Sirius. "Ah," she said, and bent over to quickly grab the fallen towel off from the floor. She threw it over her shoulder and retreated back to the bathroom. "I see. That makes more sense."

Now, what was that supposed to mean?

"Huh?" I asked stupidly, and followed her like a young puppy dependent upon its owner. The bathroom door slid shut in front of my face. I knocked on it and called out, "What do you mean by it makes more sense? Alice?"

Alice knew that the only thing that bothered me more than the uttering of queer remarks was the uttering of queer remarks without an accompanying explanation. Clearly, she wasn't in the mood to please me today, as I was getting plenty of both.

And to think that it was only seven twenty in the morning.

Hang on, seven twenty?

Mental note to self: Do not allow self to become so carried away with this Potter-Remus-Hogsmeade mess.

Ugh. I'll just pop down to breakfast now.

* * *

Believe it or not, breakfast threw me even more off schedule.

Do you know why? It was because _Remus_ was there. And things had just gotten very, very awkward between us.

He was already at the Gryffindor table when I arrived at the Great Hall, and unlike me, he actually looked reasonably presentable. As presentable as one can be at the early hours of morning, at any rate.

"Hello there," I greeted as I slid down in the seat opposite him. "What brings you here so early?"

Remus looked up from his plate of waffles and smiled. "Hey," he said. "Just couldn't sleep." He turned back to his waffles.

Hm, strange. That seemed to be everybody's excuse today.

I took a red apple from the fruit bowl and stared down at the table, sensing a feeling of embarrassment and paranoia creep down to me with each second that passed by in silence.

It just seemed – different_._ Weird, uncomfortable. I didn't understand why, though. I mean, we had gotten along perfectly well lately. In fact, I had tutored him in Charms to an Outstanding on our recent test, and he had done the same with me for Transfiguration. I had actually received an Exceeds Expectations and not an Outstanding grade, but that was just expected – I'm positively terrible at Transfiguration. For me to get an Exceeds Expectations is just... beyond the imagination, and I'm not even exaggerating here. So Remus had in fact done a pretty good job, meaning that it didn't—

Oh no.

No.

James must've told him.

Well, isn't that just marvellous_. _NOT.

Now Remus thought that I _like _liked him. Why must the world be so cruel? And obviously, he didn't return my supposed romantic feelings back, so _that _was why he was acting so awkwardly.

Well, to his credit, the boy had really only said four words so far. And he _was_ known to be quiet, after all.

There was only one way to find out if the situation could be authentically classified as 'awkward' or not. I bit into my apple, chewed, and swallowed. "So," I said in a faux cheerful tone. "How was your night?"

Remus looked me squarely in the eyes with an unreadable expression with a small smile playing across his lips. Okay, maybe the situation wasn't actually awkward. Phew. "Fine," he said, and his tone seemed to be challenging me to say more. "Why do you ask?"

Why do I ask? Because I'm going on a freaking DATE with you tomorrow, and one of your best mates thinks that I fancy you when I in fact really, really don't. If you could suggest a way for me to get out of this mess, please do so now. I'm in a desperate fix here.

"No reason," I replied, but I'm pretty sure that even he could detect the strained tone in my voice.

"Well, it was great. I got some History of Magic done."

Momentarily distracted, I screwed my nose at him. "Ew, History of Magic."

"Hey, do not put down History of Magic. It's better than Ancient Runes, at any rate."

"Is _not._"

"Is too."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! You have a freaking _ghost _for your teacher." I rolled my eyes. "Psh. Sometimes I wonder why I even like you."

Remus' fork froze just as it was about to enter his mouth. He coughed awkwardly and began to eat again.

Oh, crap.

That did _not _come out well.

Well, that just confirmed that James Potter has been, as always, an Exceedingly Irritating Arse. So irritating that he deserves the term to be capitalised in his honour.

"Remus, I—"

Hang on. I couldn't even tell him that I _didn't _like him. Otherwise he would wonder why I had said so in the first place, and probably figure out that I LOVE JAMES. Which was not, not good.

Merlin's shitting pants.

"Language, Lily," I muttered to myself sternly. "Bad, bad girl. Stop swearing so much. Not good – shows a lack of cultivation and maturity—"

"Uh, Lily? Are you alright?"

My head snapped up and I laughed nervously. "Oh yes, I'm fine! Stunning, actually. Just delightful."

I would've honestly forgiven the boy if he had decided to un-friend me then and there. Hell, _I_ would've seriously considered it if I'd been met a person who acted the way I did.

Remus raised his eyebrows slightly, but other than that showed no indication of his apprehension. He did not, thankfully, bolt right off and leave me looking like a complete idiot. Which I was.

This is why I loved the boy. Not _love _loved, just loved.

Remus nodded, continuing as if nothing was strange in the situation. He swallowed another bit of waffle. "So," he said with a small smile, "Potions essay tonight in the library?"

"Yeah," I said, relieved. Something that I could actually understand. "I've done most of it, except for the part on the reaction between mixing Gillyweed and Salamander Skin together. I don't really understand—"

"Great," he cut me off abruptly, and then stood up from his seat. "We'll do it all tonight. I'm going to go have a shower now."

I blinked. "Oh, okay," I said. "See you later, then."

He waved and walked off. But just as he reached the door, Remus turned around and cupped his hand over his mouth. "Oh, and Lily?" he called out across the Hall.

I cocked my head in question, hoping that we hadn't caught the attention of too many nosy onlookers.

Remus grinned. "Looking forward to tomorrow, right?"

My life sucks.

* * *

**I absolutely ADORE you all, and see you (hopefully) soon!**

**~ birchermuesli **


	4. The Diary of Lily Evans, Pages 34 to 37

**To Whom It May Concern,**

**I apologise profusely for the measurements below, as they are indeed in metric units. Please bear with me, and hopefully I'll see you at the end of the chapter.**

**Also, to all alerters, favouriters and reviewers: I love you, and shall now proceed by drowning my keyboard in heart-wrenching sobs of joy.**

**Sincerely, **

**Me.**

* * *

FEATURED REVIEW:

_**Remmy is so frickin hot**_

_**Holy dawgish macaroons**_

_**I be dying over here**_

... Lovely. Enjoy your dawgish macaroons, then. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Four - The Diary of Lily Evans, Pages 34-37:**

9:34 pm -

_**An Entirely Non-Stalkerish Profile of Rhiannon deLoreche:**_

Height: 1.78 m  
Weight: 60 to 65 kg  
BMI: 18.9 to 20.5

Hair: Medium length, straight, light brown.  
Eyes: Brown.  
Skin: Slightly tanned with several light freckles, no signs of acne.  
Foot size: Approximately 8.  
Teeth: White.

School Intelligence: Average – mostly receives Acceptables and Exceeds Expectations, with the occasional Outstanding.  
Actual Intelligence: Obviously phenomenal, if she managed to score James Potter.

**Conclusion**: Screw her.

_**A Saddening Profile of Myself, Lily Evans:**_

Height: 1.65 m  
Weight: probably 50 to 55 kg  
BMI: around 19

Hair: Long, orangey red, sometimes straight and sometimes with a hint of a wave that makes it look even more horrible because it's not quite a wave, but it's definitely not straight.  
Eyes: Large, green.  
Skin: As pale as paper. No, not that pale – the colour of _ageing_ paper, maybe. No freckles, but usually accompanied with at least one vomit-worthy pimple or defect of some kind.  
Foot size: 6½.  
Teeth: White.

School Intelligence: Not… not too bad, actually – average grade of O or E, excluding Transfiguration.  
Actual Intelligence: Saddeningly troll-like.

**Conclusion**: Not qualified enough to be James Potter dating material, and feet are too small.

_**Profile of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin (sorry, Peter):**_

_James Potter:  
_Height: 1.75 m  
Weight: How am _I _supposed to know that? Pah, seriously.  
BMI: See above.

Hair: They say black, but I will always stand by my opinion that it is in fact a very dark shade of brown. At any rate, it smells like Heaven.  
Eyes: Hazel green, heart-throbbingly gorgeous.  
Skin: Tanned, smooth, a TINY bit hairy – but the best kind of hairy, yeah? Because really, who wants to be dating a _completely _hairless bloke? Honestly, there's just no sense of maturity in it.  
Foot size: 10-ish.  
Teeth: Who cares about teeth? I care about LIPS and TONGUE.

School Intelligence: Bloody genius.  
Actual Intelligence: Even more of a bloody genius.

**Conclusion: **Nothing needs to be said, or I'll be taking up several chapters to describe the utter adorableness of the boy.

But alas, I cannot help myself. Cut me some slack.

He's amazing. So, so, so _bloody _amazing. I want to pull off his sexy school shirt and run my hands all over his smooth, muscled bare chest. I want to stand on my tiptoes, grab his yummy cheeks and kiss those supple lips (well, at least I _think _they're supple) until we both run out of breath and romantically faint on top of each other and—

That is all.

_Sirius Black:  
_Height: 1.83 m  
Weight: I already told you, I haven't the faintest clue as to how one is supposed to go about estimating a boy's weight. Then again, it _is _me setting out these categories. Perhaps I should take the Weight and BMI out.  
BMI: I love James Potter.

Hair: Straight, black, _just _brushing the shoulders.  
Eyes: Grey – or, as many girls put it, "stormy grey, and how so romantic!"  
Skin: Between pale and tanned, but more pale.  
Foot size: approximately 9.  
Teeth: I haven't actually checked. I'm guessing white, though. I mean, there'd just be no appeal for the fifty-three members of his fan club if he had yellow, rotting teeth.

School Intelligence: Hardly listens in class, but come exam time always seems to rack up on the Outstandings.  
Actual Intelligence: Pretty dismal, if you want my true opinion.

**Conclusion: **Yeah, whatever. He's good-looking, but nobody cares. Why did I even include him in here in the first place?

_Remus Lupin  
_Height: 1.70 m

Hair: Dark blonde, bordering on brown – has become darker in the past few years.  
Eyes: A starkly clear blue colour, like a beautiful summer's day (without waxing too poetic, of course).  
Skin: Slightly tanned.  
Foot size: 9 or 10-ish.  
Teeth: White and very straight. My memory does not fail me after that entire year of stalking him in Second Year.

School Intelligence: The only one out of the three that actually studies hard in and out of class, and hence receives stellar grades for almost every subject.  
Actual Intelligence: Fairly good.

**Conclusion: **Remus, oh Remus, why can't I still have _like _like feelings towards you?

**Complete Conclusion:** Why did I even do these profiles, anyway? My memory has completely failed me. Why is it that I always seem to begin things and then forg—oh, hang on! I wrote this up to compare myself against my friends in the hope that it would raise my self esteem!

Oh.

Yeah, right. Fat lot of good that did. What a waste of precious parchment and Potions essay writing time.

* * *

10:16 pm -

Actually, I _did _in fact get something out of that friend-profile-analysing session. It's a revelation. Do you know what it is? It's that I'm a very perceptive, astute individual that has a tendency to pick up on all the little things that nobody else seems to notice.

Also, that I need to get a freaking LIFE.

* * *

11:41 pm -

One sleepless night till Hogsmeade tomorrow. I would almost cry if I wasn't so worried about my lack of attractive attire. I think I may have to get up super early tomorrow morning again and raid out some items from Alice and Emmeline's wardrobes.

Why did I _ever _give in to stupid Potter's cruel matchmaking idea? I don't want him to see me like a lumpy crab! And even worse, I DON'T WANT TO GO ON A DATE WITH REMUS LUPIN! Especially after this morning! I mean, I thought he was supposed to be the _only _nice one who _didn't _horrify me to no end. "Looking forward to tomorrow, right?" Pah! Sirius and James have rubbed off on him too much.

It's ten minutes till Saturday. Nine hours and ten minutes till I have to face those stupid Marauders.

And what if Alice and Emmeline put a lock on their wardrobes, or something equally as horrifying as that, hm? What if they're all in secret discussion with James, Remus and Sirius in a grand project to make my life full of misery and humiliation?

What if this whole thing was _planned _just so they could see me as a lumpy crab?

What if?

WHAT IF?

Whimper. Whimper. Whimper.

Oh, bloody broomsticks. Can I just go in school uniform instead?

* * *

**Hello there! Short chapter, but it's all Lily's diary. At least it's a quick update, eh? Hope you didn't completely die from the utter ridiculousness of some of the stuff I wrote there. I'm up to my neck in errands of all shapes and sizes, and your reviews motivate me so much. :) So much that I actually decided to screw extra sleep and got up early one morning before school to write half a chapter. **

**I know, I'm crazy. But it was great. :P As are you all - my loved, huggable adorable ones.**

**Until next time,**

**~ birchermuesli**


	5. Strangeness That is Really Everything

**HELLO, AND I'M BACK! Please, please, PLEASE don't hate on me, even though you have every right to! It's been more than two weeks and I was wailing over my lack of time to write the entire time (and feeling so bad for all you readers) because school work is positively BURYING me to the very neck!**

**Okay, so it's my 16th birthday today (funnily enough, it's James Potter's birthday as well. How lucky am I?) and last night I didn't feel like studying. So I wrote this for you. I am sincerely so sorry that I only got to reply to half your reviews, as (you will be hearing this a lot) _school _consumed me again. I do love each and every one of you, and thank you guys so much for sticking by me! **

**I tried to make this chapter extra long, full of random goodies that will probably be a massive failure. Oh well. :P I tried, right?**

* * *

**Featured Reviews:**

Looks like we have a new generation of comedians coming up. There were too many hilarious reviews that I would've had to devote an entire chapter to it. These were just some of the ones which, let's just say, had me acting out the literal meaning of 'rolling on the floor with laughter':

_"Galloping Gargoyles! this story is better than marshmallows dipped in Nutella! (there be thy yet no higher commendation) nom nom nom!" _– KelliniPenguini

_"I will give you several gift-wrapped Marauders if you update soon. Virtual ones, anyway. Sadly, I do not own James Potter (sigh), Sirius Black (ditto) and Remus Lupin (slightly more indifferent). J.K can keep Wormtail, the lying, cheating rat."_ – FutureAuthor-Hopefully

_"I offer you the ten demandments:__  
Firstly, of course, shall demand some sexy Remmy action  
Secondly, I shall demand you actually write the date next chapter rather than relentlessly torturing me with your teasing wail  
Thirdly, I shall demand some rock dumping  
Fourthly, I shall demand some Lily James face eating action  
Fifthly, I shall demand it soon  
Sixthly, I shall demand some dawg macaroons  
__Seventhly, I shall demand that fanfiction make their anon reviews name slots bigger so I could have fit my full DR C SMITH in  
__Eighthly, I went for a run this morning  
__Ninthly, I may be disabled tomorrow  
__Tenthly, I actually wrote this on the iPad first, but when I got up to ten, it ran out of battery and refused to start up even with power  
__Adieu. Now I am off to eat. All this talk of macaroons is making me hungry." – _K Corra

_I was/am trying to think of something funny or semi-smart to say right now, but it is 5:23am and I don't even know why I'm awake. _- Tribot_  
_

* * *

**Chapter Five - The Strangeness That is Really Everything:**

Remus Lupin looked fantastic. Absolutely, bloody-liciously _fantastic. _I'm desperately trying to channel all the icky lovey-dovey feelings I have towards James to him, but so far it's not working.

Emphasis on the _so far._

Anyway, I ended up having another early wake up (six o'clock again, I think it was) and raided out Emmeline's wardrobe. She had so many clothes that I didn't even need to spare a glance at Alice's – her parents are a couple of those rich people who just float around travelling all sorts of places and spending their excess never-ending supply of money on unnecessary expensive gifts for their children. Emmeline's an only child, so she gets the lot. I swear that her wardrobe was just about to burst open.

I settled on this final ensemble:

Underwear: Soft, white and comfortable (not that anyone's going to be needing to see _that_).

Actual Clothing: Plain white t-shirt underneath a flowy above-the-knees floral skirt, with a dark grey jacket. (This jacket is actually mine, not Emmeline's, and I'm extremely proud of it because though I might not be a clothes kind of girl, I adore it to _bits_. It's made of that thick canvas-like material and has these silver buttons going down the front – very cool-and-confident rocker chick type, and a nice contrast to the gentle floral. Yes, I may or may not have spent ten minutes staring at myself in the mirror to come towards that conclusion. Yes, there's really nothing wrong with a bit of self examining-slash-admiring every once in a while. Seriously.)

Shoes: High-heeled black ankle boots.

Accessories: Silver charm bracelet that Mum gave me for my birthday last summer.

Headwear: None.

Eyewear: None.

Legwear: Black tights.

I was proud. Very, very proud. Proud because I took the effort to pick out a nice, showy selection of clothes – which, mind you, happens about twice per year – and also because I was relatively quick in doing so.

No, relatively quick is a gross underestimation. I'm being too modest here. I was _lightening _fast.

I mean, I got up at six, immediately dashed towards Emmeline's wardrobe, stole out some stuff, tried it on in front of the mirror and got all ready for the scary D-thing by seven thirty.

Insert exclamation mark here!

Well, at least it's fast for _me_. And really, no one had even woken up yet before I tottered quietly down the stairs for breakfast at seven thirty-five, so I would say that that was a morning well spent.

Decent, solid effort, mission accomplished, and all of those self esteem boosting phrases that I can't seem to think of right now.

Because my self esteem's at a _low. _

A whole new, deathly low.

"Why?" you may ask. Simple phrase really, the word 'why'. Just loaded with connotations, depending on the tone in which you speak it with. Well anyway, I'll tell you why. Actually, no – I'll _show _you why. I'll write in it movie script so that you can imagine it to every agonisingly minute detail, and feel the pain and woe that is me. I've always wanted to be a movie director. Fascinating people, really. I mean, they've got it all. They can – oh, I should really stop rambling. Bloody sidetracked moron.

So this is a little bit how the – please stand by whilst I SHUDDER – _date _this morning went like:

_Inside The Three Broomsticks, it is loud, cheerful and crowded with drunk middle-aged men and women. There are also a sizeable amount of Hogwarts students, mostly Fifth and Sixth Years, enjoying an animated conversation over warm glasses of butterbeer. _

_Back in the furthermost corner to the entrance, Lily Evans has her hands clasped tightly together into a large fist ball. She nervously bites down on her lip as Remus Lupin, clad in a light blue polo t-shirt and dark jeans, cheerfully recalls a bubbly anecdote about a particularly exciting event last summer. Lily Evans' hair today is wavy and worn down, and it brings that effortless sort of elegance that generally takes girls of her age ten to fifteen minutes to attain. However, for a clumsy and inexperienced individual like herself, Lily has taken approximately twenty-four frantic and frustrated minutes to achieve the look. She still thinks it's worth it, though._

_[Enter James Potter and Rhiannon deLoreche.]_

Lily : _[eyes widening] _Oh, _sh_– Remus, I think I'll, uh, get us some more butterbeer. _[mutters] _Yes, butterbeer. I'll do that. _[She jumps up abruptly from her seat and dashes off to the busy counter, cheeks reddening at a rapidly fast rate.]_

Remus: _[looking slightly amused] _Problem, Lil? Oh look, there's James and Rhiannon! Fancy that. _[He waves them over.] _Hey, guys! Over here!

_[Lily secretly side steps back behind a pole to observe the encounter.]_

James: _[grinning and dragging Rhiannon by the hand over to the small, square table] _Hey mate, what's up? _[He pulls a chair around for Rhiannon and takes the one that Lily had previously been sitting in.] _Lilykins a no show?

Rhiannon: Hello Remus. _[She leans against James' shoulder and sticks her tongue out in a cheeky manner.] _Haven't seen you in a while yet; you really do study far too hard. Come out with us some time.

Remus: _[amused] _There really isn't anywhere to in Hogwarts to go out to, Rhi.

Rhiannon: Oh, whatever. _[She waves a hand about dismissively.] _Just do, promise?

Remus: Sure thing.

_[James whispers something indistinguishable into Rhiannon's ear, and she giggles as he tucks a strand of the light brown locks that have fallen out from her messy bun. Remus looks slightly uncomfortable. At this moment, Lily Evans chooses to make herself known and attempts to adopt a careless, unworried air.]_

Lily: Oh, hey James, Rhi! Didn't see you there. _[She stands by James' seat.]_

Rhiannon: Hey Lily!

James: _[turns around, looking on the verge of laughter] _Where'd you go?

Lily: To bring us some more butterbeer, of course.

James: Really?

Lily: _[looking confused] _Um, yes. I like my butterbeer. You know that, don't you? You told me in Fifth Year that – oh, never mind. _What _are you looking at me like that for?

James: You don't seem to have any of it on you, I'm afraid.

Lily: Oh! _[Her hand springs from the back of James' seat.] _I must've – must've left it on the counter…

James: Distracted, huh?

Lily: Yes, no, oh bloody—

James: Nice skirt, by the way.

_[Lily's head snaps back to James. She looks distantly excited, but mostly embarrassed.]_

Lily: What did you say?

James: Nice skirt you've got there.

Lily: Oh – thanks, I guess.

James: Stop being so flustered, I'm sure Moony thinks the same thing. He's just too chicken to say it out loud. _[Remus cocks an eyebrow, but he ignores this.] _That skirt – it's Emmeline's, isn't it? You were always whining about how you wanted it. And is that – _makeup_ you're wearing?

Lily: Makeup? What – no! _[Her eyes narrow.] _Why in rudding hell would I ever wear makeup?

James: For dear old Remus here, of course.

Lily: _[swallows and then turns to Rhiannon with a warm smile] _Hello there, I'm afraid I'm being incredibly rude today. Nice to see you.

Rhiannon: And you. _[She smiles openly.] _We haven't talked since you were tutoring me in Charms. I was just telling Remus here – you all should really hang out more often with us. I miss company from all you old, ancient Seventh Years.

_[Her tone is teasing, but Lily looks unamused.]_

Lily: Hang out with – 'us'?

Rhiannon: Yes, James and me, of course—

Lily: Have a nice day so far?

_[James snorts at this, causing Lily to turn around and glare at him.]_

Rhiannon: _[in a tone which suggests a private joke] _Oh yes, it's _certainly _been nice, if you could even call it that. _[She laughs.]_

James: _[whispers into Rhiannon's ear again] _Just THROW it up, _darrrling! _

Rhiannon: _[whispering back] _Would you like any firewhisky? We're all out of the butterbeer, I'm afraid_._

_[Lily looks annoyed and steals another chair from a young female wizard who has left for the toilet.] _

Lily: _[to Remus] _I hate Hogsmeade.

Remus: Really, now?

Lily: Horrible place, really. Oh, not you, of course. You're just – wonderful. Fantastic, yeah. But Hosgmeade _itself_—

James: _[stifles Rhiannon's giggles with a large hand] _Hey, Lil!

Lily: _[snaps] _What?

James: Is that the jacket that you were raving to me about a couple of weeks ago, the one that your parents bought for you?

Lily: No, they got me the bracelet._ [She looks disgruntled.] _I picked the jacket out myself, actually. I _told _you that.

_[Remus casually takes a sip from the remainder of his butterbeer.]_

James: Ah, apologies. I'll be sure to remember it for next time.

Lily: Piss off.

And so on, so forth. The day was absolute HELL. James Potter, of whose arse I am currently seriously contemplating lodging my high-heeled boot firmly down, simply _refused _give Poor Helpless Me a single bloody BREAK. The skirt, the makeup, the jacket (I just cannot BELIEVE that he didn't remember I picked it out myself!) – and _then_ he proceeded later on to teasing me about how I shouldn't have even been at Hogsmeade in the first place because I had so much homework to do – with Remus!

Remus this! Remus that! The SNOGGING hints! The _suggestive remarks_! They were all enough to make a girl positively _bawl_ with embarrassment! Even Remus couldn't help but roll his eyes and utter an irritated, "Shut it, will you?" by the end.

And _that _is how bad James was.

Actually, no. He's not James anymore. He just doesn't deserve the privilege of being called by his first name. From now on, he will have the name of – and the _only _name of – Potter.

Back to old days, I'm afraid.

And I just can't believe Rhiannon. She didn't even care about the fact that her boyfriend (and I express this term in a deeply loathing manner, despite the fact that my anger towards James – er, Potter – currently exceeds and defies all that I am able to express on parchment) was humiliating me to no end. In fact, all the dumb rock did was _cackle_ along with him. I always knew that she was an evil witch.

Bloody Sixth Years.

And why did she look so pretty, anyway? She didn't even _try. _She's not supposed to be pretty. Maybe Potter has a thing for messy buns and last-minute outfits like a simple pair of jeans and rugby jumper.

Oh, deary Merlin me. This is so dramatic; my nerves are all on edge now. I knew that this Hogsmeade date was a terrible idea. Well, it was Potter's idea, so I guess there wasn't any way that it _couldn't _have ever been terrible.

This is why I shouldn't listen to anyone. Him in particular.

To-do:

1. Find a subtler way to put on makeup.

2. Remember to call Potter 'Potter'.

3. Learn how to do messy bun.

4. Invest in rugby jumpers.

* * *

"Why the grumpy face, Lilykins?" was what greeted me the moment I stepped out into the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Why the ugly face, Potter?" was my snappy retort back.

I was quite proud of it, actually. I'm not generally known for these speedy comebacks.

"Now, now," James said cheerfully, slinging an arm around my shoulder, "let's not get into lies, shall we? You and I both know that I am far from having an ugly face."

He winked. I glared at him.

Thought he was so cool, did he?

He had showered after the Hogsmeade trip and was now wearing a loose white button-down shirt with a pair of jeans. His hair was wet, but not to the extent that it was making puddles all over the ground (thankfully).

This annoyed me. Why in bloody Merlin didn't he just use _magic _to dry it?

Though seeing James like this certainly didn't give me the butterflies (who said that I ever got butterflies from James Potter? Hmph.), even though I guess he was good-looking and delicious and all those things, I still wanted to escape from him as quickly as possible. I was in a terrible mood, and the last thing I wanted was the prospect of further humiliation from the most irritating boy in school.

With my luck, he'd tease me about my _lack_ of make-up now. That, or the fact that I had lamely attempted to copy Rhiannon deLoreche's hairstyle from earlier that morning.

James' eyes gleamed, and he patted my shoulder lightly. I tried to ignore him as I left the Common Room, but he simply followed me. There obviously wasn't any point in attempting to get rid of his annoying arm as he probably had the strength of fifty elephants in comparison to myself.

Are elephants even strong? Heaving animals, though. I could picture James as a big hulking elephant – trudging through the hot desert with his elephant mate Sirius, both of them eliminating whatever unfortunate object came beneath their crushing feet.

It didn't make sense, then, that the elephant was dating the rock. Hm.

"I'm actually on my way to meeting Remus now," I said stiffly, trying to ward him away through verbal manipulation. "We're working on our Potions essay."

"Perfect. I'm headed that way too."

"Oh, I'm absolutely honoured," I said sarcastically, "but you really don't have to."

James stopped for a moment, bringing me to a halt with him. Then he cocked his head at me, eyebrows furrowing. I would've almost said that he looked _smart, _him concentrating like that_. _However, as we all know, 'smart' won't ever be a trait goes along with James Potter.

Even though in my last diary entry I may have termed him a 'bloody genius' in all aspects of the word. Whatever.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "Lil – did you remove all your makeup?"

Now, do you _see_ what I have to put up with?

"_No,_" I replied with a little more force than necessary. My teeth grit in frustration as I tried to wheedle my way out of this. "I told you – I was never wearing it in the first place!"

James chuckled and shook his head. "So stubborn, so stubborn."

"Where's Rhiannon?" I snapped, storming off ahead and hoping that someone would cast a Vanishing spell on him.

The ends of his lips quirked up. "In the library."

"Doing?"

"Small talk with Moony, presumably, whilst waiting for me to arrive."

Waiting for _him _to arrive.

James was going there to meet Rhiannon. He wasn't just being an irritating arse to... me.

My face burned slightly, and all of a sudden I felt the strange urge to cry. "Oh," was all I could mutter. "Oh, alright then."

I sighed, and swatted his hand away wearily – it had come to rest at the top of my head now. Surprisingly, he obliged this time. Perhaps he sensed that something had changed in me – meaning that I had gone from magnificently feisty to magnificently depressed within the space of two seconds.

Well, he always knew that I was a bit of a nutter.

Suddenly, Potions with Remus didn't look too appealing now. Again I sighed, and glumly pulled out the tangled hair tie that I had unsuccessfully attempted to fashion a messy bun out of. I had been planning to ask Remus how it looked, but I guess now that my attempts of subtly charming in Potter whilst pretending to loathe him were all just futile.

"Library it is, then," I said with a fake smile plastered across my face, and power walked as fast as I could without seeming conspicuous towards the large building.

This time, James didn't say anything in response. He simply followed me into the library, and when the door had shut behind us, gave me a short hug which was over before my mind had even registered its occurrence. He had slung his arms around my neck (but loosely, not that he was _strangling _me or anything) from behind, and the action would've been awkward if not for the fact that nothing seemed to turn out awkward with James Potter. "Take care of yourself, okay?" he murmured. "You need to stop being so emotionally distressed over everything. It's bad for you."

Then he walked off, nodded at Remus slightly and took off with Rhiannon to an aisle at the other end of the room – the Charms aisle, I think it was. His hand was around her waist, but oddly I didn't feel any burning daggers of jealousy seethe through my body this time round.

It may have been because of the fact that I was still frozen to the spot, shocked over the entirely-out-of-the-blue display of sentimentality.

Also because I had turned into complete moosh because of it, with my brain buzzing softly in a pleasant haze.

James had hugged me. And he _cared _about me.

Philosophical observation: Life is very strange. I will not even attempt to begin to comprehend it.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. It would seriously make my day if you guys could take a couple of seconds to drop down a review. :) Free hugs for all! **

**Have a GREAT day, and until next time, au revoir!**

**~ birchermuesli xx**


	6. Why?

**Hope you all had a marvellous day, and I managed to squeeze this over the weekend. This chapter is dedicated to FutureAuthor-Hopefully and Tribot, whose birthdays have recently passed. :) **

**Absolutely dying in school work over here, so I must get to that - no long-drawn author's notes this time, lucky you.**

**I love you all, reviewers. *blows kisses* Also, a special thanks to S0phfeist with a review that I'm surprised didn't surpass the character limit - you are simply too cool for your face. Seriously. ;)**

* * *

Featured Reviews:

"Do you know that 88% of humanity carry rocks in their hands so that they can throw it at other, innocent bystanders? Watch yourself, Lily." - _WobblyJelly_

"You just have the fate of my body spontaneously combusting on your hands. No pressure at all. Just give me some warning before you abandon me for several weeks, yeah? You know, so I can keep myself from pondering your excruciatingly long absence for several weeks until I fry my brain involuntarily. Again, no pressure. Just the frying of my brain and the spontaneous combusting of my body. " - _LunaxNight_

* * *

**Chapter Six – Why?**

"So, um, with the salamander skin," I started quietly, pointing at a large paragraph at the bottom of Remus' parchment, "you said that if we wanted to create a Strengthening Solution, we would have to put it before the valerian roots in order to achieve the right reaction with the boiling water, right?"

Remus nodded.

"Okay," I said. I quickly scribbled down a note of what I had just said. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Remus had beckoned me over from my frozen state at the entrance to the library to get on with the Potions essay. I always knew we were a match made in Heaven – in the studying sense, of course. I always find myself leeching off him whenever I can't find any motivation for school work. Just the mere sight of him leaving James, Sirius and Peter behind on a sunny Saturday morning to head towards the library with a sizeable amount of books stacked beneath one arm is enough to snap my mind back to reality.

Yes, reality. School is reality. Dating James Potter, on the other hand, is not.

I've come to a conclusion – I'm a nasty, horrible person. I hardly paid _any _attention to Remus during our Hogsmeade date and practically used him to spy on James and Rhiannon.

How utterly MANIPULATIVE.

I'm getting one of those things now where your stomach clenches up and growls softly at you. Even my body is so upset that it must express its disapproval and disgust at me.

Or perhaps that's just called hunger.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm just so horrified at myself. Nice and caring (and especially good-looking) guys like Remus Lupin do not deserve to have crappy people crap up their lives like this. Even though it was for a worthy cause and all.

So after several long-drawn seconds of watching Remus flip through several pages of _Advanced Potions Making, _presumably to find the correct information for our other assignment due next week (I couldn't believe that he was already onto it), I decided that my pride, though virtually non-existent, deserved to be swallowed up and I should just apologise to the poor boy.

"Remus," I said, and bit my lip nervously. "I'm really sorry. Sincerely. You have no idea of the remorse I'm feeling right now."

He looked up from the textbook with a slightly bemused look on his face. It was quite the heart-melting expression, if I may say so myself. Why in Merlin couldn't I still _like _like him like I used to in Second Year? Maybe studying killed out all the sexual tension between people.

Resolution: Stop studying with Remus. Or maybe just stop asking him for help. I mean, I can't just shun him and turn away when he asks for Charms guidance – seriously, what in heavens would Flitwick say to that of Hogwarts' Head Girl?

Remus' voice broke me out of my highly important resolution-making. "Why?"

"Because," I said, feeling rather miserable, "I – uh – I don't—"

He smiled and cocked his head to the side. "Yes?"

Stupid guy had to be so damned NICE. I should really begin to associate myself with meaner individuals to boost my self-morale.

I sunk lower in my seat. "I don't like you," I murmured ashamedly. I looked down to my lap, cheeks burning. "I mean, I don't like you in _that _way, you know? So it was entirely wrong to go to Hogsmeade with you. Wrong in the ghastliest sense. I should never have let James – I mean, Potter – go through with this. It was horrible, I didn't pay any attention to you and I probably wasted your entire day being an embarrassing pain in the arse to be seen around."

"Lily, be quiet already," Remus said tiredly. He rolled his eyes, seeming to find some amusement in the conversation. I don't know how he found it funny in any way, to be honest. I was ready then and there to find the nearest tree and bury myself beneath the dirt around it. Though I must say it would mess up my hair terribly. "I know you don't like me."

Wait, _what?_

"Yes," repeated Remus slowly and emphatically. "I know you don't like me in that way, Lily. And neither do I."

That was when my heart did an extra-enthusiastic pump of joy.

I couldn't believe it, just couldn't. It was too good to be true. Remus knew that I didn't like him, and on top of that _he didn't like me either!_

HOORAY! Hooray for ME! Hooray for mankind, or womankind at that! I should host a party in celebration of this! The 'Remus-knows-that-Lily-unfortunately-doesn't-have-romantic-feelings-towards-him' gathering, I'll call it. It'll be huge, and maybe I'll make it in the Room of Requirement – size obviously wouldn't be an issue then.

Perhaps I should change the name, though. It's a bit of a mouthful. I can't imagine going up to Alice or Emmeline and asking them in a pleasant tone, "Hello there. Would you care to join my 'Remus-knows-that-Lily-unfortunately-doesn't-have-romantic-feelings-towards-him' gathering on Sunday night? It's to celebrate the fact that Remus knows that I unfortunately don't have romantic feelings towards him."

But even _that _seems a bit demoralising, if you ask me. I mean, why would I even assume that—

"Everyone knows you're so in love with James, anyway," broke in Remus, backing off that statement with a cheeky grin.

My brain temporarily shut down. I stared at him open-mouthed.

Then it began to function again, with only one thought running through my mind:

Life sucks.

Life absolutely sucks when your name is Lily Evans, you have disgusting red hair and the only thing that reciprocates the warm feelings you have is your rudding QUILL, and not James Potter. _And _when everybody around you knows this, and how much of a tragic case you are.

Someone please Obliviate me, and quickly.

Well, isn't that just great. So much for hosting a party – I'll have to go call off the caterer now.

"I haven't any clue of what you're talking about," I bit back a little violently, shooting him the sort of glare that I usually reserved for only James and Sirius.

It didn't have any effect on him. Stupid lump headed genius of a hot guy. "Lil," he laughed, barely concealing his laughter in the quiet space of the library, "don't even try to pretend. We all know. Ever since he's come back with Rhiannon you've been acting all jittery and nasty around them." When I continued to gape at him wordlessly, he leaned in closer and continued in a lower tone, "To be honest, I always supported you and James. Rhiannon's lovely, but she's a bit too lovely, if you get my drift."

This is why, Remus Lupin, this is why I love you.

However, in a vain attempt to preserve any semblance of dignity I pretended to be offended by his remark. "Rhiannon's great," I said, narrowing my eyes. Rather angrily, I began the process of pulling my hair into a messy bun. Or tried to, at least. "She and Potter seem really happy together. You shouldn't make judgements on other people's relationships like that. And I always act nasty around Potter – he's always been a right arse to be around."

'Shouldn't make judgements on other people's relationships' – Merlin, that's got to be the most hypocritical statement I've ever made in my entire bloody life.

Judging from the expression on his face, Remus seemed to think so too. Luckily for me he was gentleman enough to not mention it. The next words that came out from his mouth were _far_ from gentlemanly, though. "Stop it, Lil," he said bluntly. "You're a terrible liar, and you're hopelessly infatuated with James. Everyone knows."

"He's right, you know," said a voice from behind. "It's so obvious that's it's become almost a joke. The only person that _doesn't_ know is him, which is quite funny when you come to think of it. Honestly, the clueless people living in our world these days."

Why, hello Sirius Black. I'm sensing a BOY OVERLOAD here. Would you just like to get lost off this planet, _por favor?_

I turned around on my chair slowly, in an attempt to have the maximum impact on a sinister front. It probably didn't make any difference. Sirius gazed back at me lazily, one hand absentmindedly patting the side of his hair. He too was wearing a white button down shirt coupled with a pair of jeans, just like James had been when he met me on our way to the library. Incidentally (or not), Remus was also wearing this rather flattering ensemble.

What was this, some kind of Marauder dress code to follow when torturing Lily Evans?

"And a hello to you too, Evans," continued Sirius with a smirk on that attractive face. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Why are you even in the library?" I questioned rudely, not in the mood for small talk. "You don't belong here."

For Merlin's sake, I sounded like some elitist from the Exclusive Library Society or something. Everybody needed to stop making me look like such a snotty arse.

"Looking for Prongs, actually," Sirius replied in a pleasant tone, choosing to ignore my snappiness. He casually thrust his hands in the pockets of his jeans and scanned his eyes across the library as if it were a foreign place.

For some odd reason, the fact that somebody was unacquainted with the library after spending more than six years at this school bothered me more than I would willingly admit. "Oh, for crying out loud," I huffed, jumping up from my seat. I stormed off towards the Charms aisle with my messy bun drooping to the side – quietly though, of course. One must always observe the proper etiquette when within the holy confines of Hogwarts' library.

Sirius followed me from behind, and I could just imagine him rolling his eyes in that everything-is-a-joke-to-me manner that he always seemed to adopt. "Bloody hell, Evans," he drawled. "You're on fire today. You really need to cool it."

"Shut up, Black," I snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

"Why? Because you discovered that we've all known of your horrendously non-secret attraction towards Prongs all this while? Or because you saw him and Rhi going at it today?"

"Hypothetically speaking, say that I did like Potter," I said in a very tight tone. "How many people would know about this already?"

"Oh, you needn't worry," he said breezily. "Only those who actually care to take note of you. Which, as you probably know, is practically nobody."

Well, thank you very much. It's always nice to know that people just brush past you all the time because you're that ordinary – even though you have some horridly attention-seeking red hair and you're the Head Girl of this school. No big deal or anything.

I was feeling very sour by the time we had reached the Charms aisle and had concluded our short conversation. However, I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit bad for Rhiannon deLoreche, though, with her wide-eyed gaze and Sixth Year innocence. She really was a sweet girl. If only she'd been James' cousin, or related to him in some way that would rule out any possibility of her being romantically involved with him. Sometimes I thought that I was too harsh on her. I mean, it wasn't _her _fault that she had fallen for the James Potter charm – hell, I'd be harbouring grudges towards more than half the school if that were the case. It was more… it was more the fact that she had recognised it, taken the opportunity when presented to her and was now living a blissful, James Potter filled life.

It was more the fact that I wished so _goddamned _much that I could be her.

But still, the rock was by no way at fault here. My hating her was just my horrible personality rearing its ugly head again, and I needed to control it.

Resolution Two: Stop hating Rhiannon deLoreche.

Just as I had come to this decision and was feeling rather lovely about myself, I ventured further into the aisle and found James kissing Rhiannon. All nice feelings that I had previously felt towards her, all resolutions I had made about treating her fairly – they all disappeared within a flash.

Kaboom, gone. Replaced with hot, burning hatred.

Even though the kiss _may_ have only been on her cheek. But whatever.

Strangely enough, Rhiannon looked like she was on the verge of tears when James pulled away. She squeezed his hand tightly, which caused my stomach to clench horribly again, only in jealousy this time.

Yes, I'll admit now that I've been jealous of her all this time, alright? Only it's none of your damn business and I wish that everybody would stop teasing me about it.

When Rhiannon gave James a watery smile and walked off, looking the most crestfallen I had ever seen her before as she muttered a quiet, "Excuse me," and pushed between Sirius and me, I was afraid for a moment that a family member had died, or that she had been overwhelmed by my unsuccessful attempts to restrain my unpleasantness towards her earlier that day in Hogsmeade and had collapsed in grief.

The actual truth surprised me even more.

"Prongs?" said Sirius flatly, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, let's go."

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I was surprised that he didn't even acknowledge me or take this opportunity to throw in a witty comment. Perhaps I was just being a self-centred princess again. "Yeah," he said in a deflated tone. "Yeah, okay."

Then the two of them walked away from me to the end of the aisle, heading right towards the exit of the library. Just like that – without a single word.

"Hey, wait!" I called out, confused. James stopped and his blank face turned to face me. I didn't know what was wrong, but by Merlin did I _hate_ to see him like that. "What – where are you guys off to?"

"Marauder's business," said Sirius tightly just as James opened his mouth to speak.

But I could've sworn that I heard James' voice clearly when Sirius uttered those words, quiet though it was. I could've sworn that I didn't mistake the words, "Broke up with her," mumble out from his lips.

Could've _sworn. _

Judging from the intense expression he was giving me through those starkly clear hazel eyes, and his failure to correct the shocked look that spread across my face, it seemed that unless I had simultaneously developed both a deceptive ear infection and the ability to hallucinate, my conjecture wasn't far from the truth.

Or _was_ the truth, maybe.

With one last meaningful glance, James nodded at me and walked out the door.

Broke up with her, he had said. _Broke up with her._

They were both so happy this morning though. Even now he looked miserable after doing the deed.

So why on earth did he do it?

* * *

**Why? Why? _Why?_**

**Have a GREAT day!**

**~ birchermuesli**


	7. Hallucinations

**I tried to make this longer to make up for my appalling absence. :) Thank you to all you reviewers, alerters, favouriters - you're the ones who make this story really happen! ****By the way, I just wrote a one-shot a couple of days ago. It's the one with the wacky French title, because I really couldn't think of something interesting to call it. Foreign languages always make things sound better than they actually are. Check it out. ;)**

**Also, a belated happy birthday to SucksRoyalHippogriff, who I seem to have missed mentioning last chapter!**

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Featured Reviews:

"Yay! La-dumping-of-the-rock. *victory dance* Is it too early to be pulling out the streamers and maracas? Er, I mean, ahem. Poor Rhiannon, what great emotional hardship this must be for her. Indeed. Cough. " - _KelliniPenguini_

"I hope you can keep up with your soon to be school work burial. Wouldn't want one of my favourite authors to die of school work overload. Also, that wouldn't look too good on your school's info page. 'Unfortunately, before you apply to our school, the administration feels the need to tell you one, of our former students died in an incident involving school work overload and gold fish. This however, does not need to influence your choice in applying to our school.' I had an involuntary impulse to add gold fish into your hypothetical unwanted death. Hmm... Maybe I should have added the colonization of demented death eaters, keen upon the eating of the human population's souls... " - _LunaxNight _

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Hallucinations **

I couldn't find James all day. Not the unruly black hair, nor that lazy but confident stance of his when he stood up from his seat. I tried to find Sirius, Remus and Peter because surely they would have some idea of his whereabouts, but even _they_ seemed to make themselves scarce. I did happen to spot Peter on a couple of occasions, but he simply mumbled an unintelligible excuse and quickly walked away in the opposite direction.

Bloody coward.

It was nine o'clock now, and I was getting slightly worried. He hadn't shown up to any of his classes, and not even the Prefects Meeting that I'd just had. I never knew how much of a pain it was not having James Potter to roar his irritated, "Shut up! I want to get out of this room quickly," to all those giggling Fifth Years every few moments. I had always been grateful for his shameless snappish presence during these meetings, but never more so than now.

Of course, it had always bothered me that he always said it so genuinely – as if he actually _meant_ it – because he had some date with Rhiannon at the Astronomy Tower, or something of the sorts.

Yes, that's right. Woe is me. But, back to Rhiannon…

Ugh. My brain must've been playing tricks on me. Maybe James didn't say that he broke up with her. Perhaps he said that he "joked with her" or "boated up with her", if that even makes any sense. I mean, there's just no reason for him to disappear like this! Rhiannon looked absolutely horrid this lunchtime; I really hope she's okay. I was so deep in my desperation that I contemplated briefly walking down the Hall to ask her whether she knew where James was. Of course, me being the incredibly intelligent girl I am, I soon realised that this was in fact a stupid idea because she'd just end up figuring out that I liked him. Or rather, that I _liked _him.

Or RATHER_, _that I liked him _now_ but was about to embark on a life-changing journey of falling in 'like' (love, sadly, is rather impossible) with Remus via the cutting off of our study commitments, beginning from today.

Ironically enough, just as I was thinking this on my stroll towards the Common Room, I spotted the very aforementioned Remus Lupin's sandy blonde head turn a corner at the next corridor.

Score.

"Hey, REMUS!" I yelled out, cupping my hands over my mouth to amplify my voice.

Ha. Little bugger had no choice but to stop.

Remus looked slightly troubled as he turned around to face me, but then again, it was probably a ploy to run away from me again. His eyes darted back to corridor he had been heading down, and then back to me. He scratched the back of his neck and said uncomfortably, "Uh, hey Lily."

I did a strange half-walk-half-jog towards him, smiling. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. Listen, I really have to go."

"I just wanted to ask you something," I said. "I was wondering if you knew whether—"

"I told you, I haven't any clue where he is," said Remus in an exasperated tone.

I stared at him. "I was wondering," I repeated shortly, "if you knew whether or not that Potions essay was due tomorrow morning or not."

Now he looked sheepish. Served him right. "Oh. Uh, yes it is."

"Thank you," I said with another wide (and hopefully man-eating) smile. He looked a little confused by this. I blinked very quickly in a way that could be mistaken for batting eyelashes.

This time, Remus' brows shot up in an absurd bewilderment. "Lily, are you – are you okay?"

More eyelash batting. "Why, I certainly am. Thank you for asking."

"Have you got something caught in your eye?"

"No, I indeed have not."

"Have you, uh, not finished the essay yet? Because there's still time enough for us to head down to the library if you want—"

"No," I broke in pleasantly. "No, I don't think we need to spend any more time in the library than is really utterly necessary."

"Okay then," said Remus, nodding. His eyes drifted down the corridor again, and an awkward silence ensued between us.

I avoided his gaze as I asked my next question. "So," I said casually. "Did you happen to catch James after dinner?"

* * *

Screw this. Screw this, screw me, screw that, because I am totally SICK of everything now. (Actually, don't screw me because that'd be rather disgusting. But that's not my point.)

Flirting sucks. It doesn't get you ANYWHERE, unless you're Emmeline or some nice girl that everybody loves, like Rhiannon deLoreche. _My_ attempted flirting landed me standing alone in a corridor away from the Gryffindor Common Room, staring at Remus Lupin's back as he rushed off again after making yet another unintelligible excuse to leave. I just couldn't believe that I was putting so much effort into finding one rudding boy – and more importantly, that it was proving so hard to achieve.

Come on. James couldn't be trying to play THAT hard to get.

"For Heaven's sake, Lily, you've really got to stop drifting off on me like that!" came Alice's annoyed voice in front of me.

I may have just forgotten that I was engaged in an 'interesting' conversation on my bed with one of my best mates. Or was supposed to be, anyway. Psh – what can I say? Gossipers bore me. "Sorry," I sighed, turning my head to meet her expectant face. "What was that again?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed in aggravation. "Are you seriously so daft that I have to retell all of it to you?" she snapped.

Thank you very much, Alice. Thank you.

"No, feel free not to. To be honest, I'd be rather glad if you didn't."

"Really, now?"

"Yes, my darling Alice of whom I cherish ever so much."

"Well, my darling Lily of whom I cherish ever so much, what I was talking about involves _James, _you know."

"WHAT?" I blurted out, eyes widening in shock. Then, realising what a carrot-head I must've made myself look like, I repeated in a more indifferent tone, "I mean, what? Remus, did you say?"

She cocked an eyebrow at me, as if she could see through my cover-up easily. "No. James."

I swallowed at unease. "Really? I could've sworn that you said Remus' name."

"Oh Merlin," Alice muttered. "This could take a long while."

I had no idea what she was talking about. She was almost implying that I was – gasp! – _dumb _and _slow. _Now, if that isn't disrespect and abuse at its finest, I don't know what is.

I straightened up and adjusted on my spot on the bed. Tucking some hair behind one hair, I ran a tongue over my lips. "So, what were you saying about James again?"

Just so you don't get any wrong ideas – I ran my tongue over my lips because they were DRY, not because I was fantasising about James. I could never be that blatant or obvious. Honestly, I don't know how anybody could've reached such a conclusion. Except with Remus of course, of whom I soon (if everything goes to plan) will not be able to control my desire for anywhere or anytime around the castle. Actually, that might get a little embarrassing. Can you imagine me pouncing on top of him and grabbing his face in for a passionate kiss during Transfiguration class? Oh, the look on Professor McGonagall's _face_!

Oh dear. Kissing Remus – mental images – gross. I mean, how so ever enticing…

I really do wonder why everybody has such low opinions of me sometimes.

Alice's voice broke me out of my thoughts. "James," she said. "He was looking for you today."

Um, what?

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "Who told you that?"

"The very man himself."

I glared at her, all Remus thoughts aside. "Where did _you _find him?"

I think I sounded quite angry, and I've heard that my green-eyed glare and sharp accusatory tone could send many running away in terror. Well, not terror. Nervousness, perhaps.

Hm, did I just say 'running away in terror'? Sounds just like Remus a few moments before, except I wasn't even trying to scare him off then. Maybe my natural state just frightens people. Well, isn't that just lovely to discover. Come to think of it, so many people – especially those little First and Second Year children – run away from me when I'm being overly nice or overly angry. They just do it so subtly that I don't ever realise.

Resolution: Do not act out extreme emotions.

There's just one person, who popped into my mind, that never tries to run away from me if I'm in an extreme mood – and that's James.

Resolution Two: Act out ordinary emotions towards James Potter.

Oh, James. Why must you be so bloody perfect? Guys like you aren't supposed to EXIST. You can't be good-looking, smart and charismatic all at the same time. That defies all laws of humanity. People like that are only ever present in books, and maybe _sometimes _movies. But real life – real life…

Gosh, no wonder the female population of Hogwarts is so dead in love with the Marauders-minus-Peter. Though honestly, I could never see what was so attractive about Sirius.

"I found him," said Alice through gritted teeth, jolting me out of my daydream again, "in the Hospital Wing. He was looking for you but then he sprained his ankle on his way to lunch."

"He went to the Hospital Wing because he sprained his ankle?" I said dubiously.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes."

I really do wish my friends would stop rolling their eyes at me. It is really ever so rude.

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because I was the one who helped him up after falling down. His ankle was really bad, actually. He had to practically lean on me entirely to get up the stairs."

A wave of jealousy surged through me, until I reassured myself that Alice was firmly connected to Frank Longbottom, and nobody else. At least it wasn't the rock who had an excuse to touch his firm, lovely shoulder and torso regions.

"Rhiannon bumped into us on the way and helped too, thank Merlin for her. I think I would've collapsed if she hadn't. You know how weak I am."

Yippee for me.

"Why didn't you tell all of this to me before?" I snapped at her.

"Uh – because it slipped my mind, maybe?"

"That's it," I said, and jumped out of bed. "I'm leaving." I pulled on a pair of daggy light blue pyjama pants over the skimpy shorts I was wearing. They were also light blue, incidentally – light blue with tiny white quills. Perhaps I have a thing for light blue pyjama attire. Does it mean anything, though? I'll have to find out.

Alice looked surprised. "What? But it's already past nine."

"Yeah, well," I huffed, "we had – we had Head Duties stuff to talk over. You were being incredibly inconsiderate when not informing me of his whereabouts earlier during the course of the day."

Ugh, there goes my stupid head spitting out long lines of words whenever my emotions become unchecked.

Alice told me so too, but I pretended not to hear her and quickly rushed out the door. There was a decent sizeable amount of people in the Common Room, but they were too immersed in whatever they were doing to notice me dash out the portrait hole.

See? Told you nobody ever noticed me.

* * *

Being Head Girl of this school does have its benefits. For one, nobody would ever dare question why you were galumphing up the stairs towards the Hospital Wing in nothing but a sleeveless top and daggy light blue pyjama pants late at night. Poor innocent Second Years. They looked so shocked to see me not wearing my prissy school uniform that I didn't even bother to scold them for sneaking around after curfew. There's really nothing wrong with young love, after all.

The journey up went by relatively smoothly, and I saw nobody save for a couple of students. I had to hide away behind a broom cupboard one time when Professor McGonagall passed, but that was all.

The door creaked slightly when I opened it to enter the Hospital Wing. Hopefully Madame Pomfrey didn't hear. With what I'm sure were extremely stealthy tiptoe movements, I crept around the dark room, relieved to find that there was only one bed occupied – meaning that I wouldn't have to worry about waking other students up when I began to snap at James for whatever he'd have done wrong. I don't know what I was supposed to be angry at him for, but something was sure to pop up in the midst of our conversation, wasn't it?

Oh, wait. I was supposed to act ordinary around him. But then I guess that didn't explain why I was sneaking around after curfew, breaking school rules just to find him.

Hmph.

The bundle of sheets on the bed suddenly shifted around, making way for a boy's messy head to pop out. He sat up, reaching with his right hand for his glasses that were sitting on the bedside table. As he did, part of the blanket covering him fell down to his torso.

His toned, sculpted and _bare _torso.

Oh, Merlin save me.

"Lil, seriously?" he said in a flat tone.

Well, what a nice greeting. I didn't just sacrifice my reputation and sanity to see you, not at all. And a good day to you too – er, night.

"Alice said that you needed to talk to me," I said in a defensive tone.

"What?"

I began to grow impatient. "Well, didn't you?"

"Uh, no," said James, giving me a strange look like I was some alien from Mars.

Actually, that's quite the offensive phrase – aliens from Mars could be very attractive, for all we know. We really must stop discriminating against these things that we haven't the faintest idea about.

Some dagger of sadness stabbed me in the stomach when I realised that I was still nothing more to him than a clumsy redhead that was a reminder of the horror of his immature days. But I was so sure that what I had heard was true!

"Well," I said with a kind of pathetic degree of desperation, "you _did _come stay here at the Hospital Wing because you sprained your ankle at lunch, right?"

"Why on Earth would I stay overnight in the Hospital Wing just because of a sprained ankle?" he scoffed, as if insulted by the very thought.

Oh dear.

Oh deary deary me.

Was everything that I had imagined to perceive in the past forty-eight hours just a stupid HALLUCINATION? Did Alice really say that James had hurt himself? Did I _really _flirt with Remus, or just my subconscious?

Is it even possible to flirt with your subconscious? Wow, narcissism at its worst. But – then did James really –

"You broke up with Rhiannon, right?" I said in a hurried tone.

James stared at me blankly. "What?"

I knew then that I was acting far from the desired 'ordinary', but I was too far in to help myself. Embarrassingly enough, tears began to well out from my eyes, but I think I managed to turn my gaze to the ground before he realised.

And this was why I loved the dark.

"You didn't?" I said, my voice coming out croaky. "You didn't break up with her?" Then I hiccupped.

Well, that's my cover destroyed.

James immediately jumped out of bed, grabbing a shirt that had been discarded on his bedside table to slip on, and I was glad (or not so glad) to see that he at least had a pair of pyjama pants on. Dark blue – hm, interesting. He stood in front of me, bending down to see my face. I sniffled, not bothering to hide the emotion now. "Lil," he said in an incredulous tone. "You're not – crying, are you?"

"_No_," I snapped.

Told you I would find some reason to get mad at him, even though it wasn't the damn sod's fault.

Strangely enough, a small grin began to spread across James' face. His grip on my shoulder loosened slightly. "By Merlin – you _are _crying!"

I shrugged him off and took a few steps back. "No," I repeated. "No, I'm not."

His eyes twinkled. "And what exactly would this be about, please tell me?"

I looked up at him for a few moments, overwhelmed, before bursting into tears again. Before I knew anything, there James was – comforting me.

Wait. James was comforting me.

_Stupid _damn perfect guys!

I punched his chest (unfortunately it was actually covered now) in frustration. "Get OFF me!" I screeched. "Why are you always so GOOD and–"

Oh no. I couldn't have actually said that. Why must I insist on embarrassing myself so?

Luckily James was too preoccupied with the noise I was making to take note of what I had said. "_Shh_," he hissed. "Bloody hell woman, do you want the entire school to hear us?" He dragged me out by one arm out into the corridor. Of course the door didn't creak when _he _opened it.

It seemed as if James had anger issues too, because he was holding onto me rather roughly as he found the nearest broom cupboard and shoved me in it with him, swinging it quietly behind us.

I didn't mind. I'd be handled rough with James any time he liked.

But now I had a more prominent issue: being almost pressed up against James in the tight confinements of a rudding BROOM CUPBOARD.

I know, you must be jealous of me. I would be jealous of me. But you have to understand that I'm already betrothed to my darling Remus, and such suggestive behaviour just cannot be tolerated by my sensitive senses.

"Now," whispered James loudly, bending down to meet my frightened eyes. "You want an explanation, right?"

"Yes," I replied meekly. "Yes, that would be nice."

To-Do:

1. Try not to die of a hormone overload.

2. Once out of this broom cupboard, research the meaning of light blue pyjama tendencies.

3. Also research the relationship between light blue and dark blue pyjama tendencies i.e. friends, enemies or romance – or all of the above.

4. Find a suitable punishment for Alice for lying to me.

5. Try not to pay any attention to the feeling of James' hot breath on my neck. Or, think of Remus... try to, anyway.

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**Have a lovely day. :)**

**~ birchermuesli**


	8. This Uncomfortable Broom Cupboard

**... and I'm back! If you're alerted to this story and actually bothered to click on the link to this chapter after all this while, I really don't know what to say. Cannot thank you enough, seriously, as goes to all you favouriters and reviewers. **

**So I kind of haven't written anything for 2 or 3 months and a couple of sentences into writing this chapter I thought to myself, "Oh dear, this is so appalling that I want to rip my eyes out like Gloucestor from King Lear did." **

**But I persevered, and terrible or not, here we are! :)**

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Featured Reviews:

"Pretty please? Pwetty please? How can you resist this face? Oh, yeah. That's right. You can't see me." _- NotFallingAttackingTheFloor_

"You're lucky my mom doesn't let me cross the world on school nights." - _Tribot_

"My Meercock (it's a mix between a meercat and a peacock. They're really cool. And they don't exist, but SHHHH DON'T TELL!) and I were reading this chapter. And we enjoyed it. A lot. So FLIBERTIGIBBET BLURP." - _S0phfeist_

"GIVE ME THE DAMN EXPLANATION BEFORE I STEAL AWAY JAMES, REMUS AND SIRIUS! yEAH THAT'S RIGHT SISTER YOU'LL HAVE NO mARAUDERS! hUH HUH THEN WHAT? u'LL HAVE SAPPY pETER COZ NO ONE CARES ABOUT HIM AND i WILL BE SUPREME RULER OF THE WORLD WITH MY THREE SEX SLAVES!"_ - maraudersgal333 _**(A/N: B****etween the interesting exchange of capital and lowercase letters and the strong assertion of ownership over your "three sex slaves", you have successfully brought me to a baffled state for more than just a few moments. Is that cause for congratulations?)**

"Note to self: when trying to be funny, drink lots of water. Cause apparently that can make me drunk." - _Screwed Up My Mind_

"...two words. CLIFFHANGER WHORE." - _WobblyJelly _**(A/N: SO. TRUE.)**

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**Chapter Eight - This Uncomfortable Broom Cupboard:**

I absolutely, ABSOLUTELY will not contemplate or think of:

1. The fact that James Potter's and my cheeks touched when we sought to find a comfortable position in the broom cupboard.

2. The fact that James Potter, whilst trying to grab onto my upper arm to bring a point across strongly, accidentally brushed his hand against a not-so-flat region instead.

3. The fact that James Potter seemed as if he was almost _deliberately _trying to make me shiver and shudder through the unnecessary proximity of his face when bringing across these aforementioned points.

4. The fact that James Potter… didn't break up with Rhiannon deLoreche?

"What?" I squeaked, pressing my back hard against the hard and slightly damp (so gross – who knows what's been there?) wall of the cupboard. "You didn't _what?_"

He hadn't broken up with her. He said that he hadn't broken up with her.

James shushed me again by quickly pressing a hand down over my mouth, but this time I was too preoccupied with the fact that there was NO BREAK UP to shiver or have squirming insides. I slapped it away indelicately and tried to shrink further away from him. No luck.

Now, if only there was a spell to enlarge broom cupboards.

"Shut up," hissed James, "they'll hear us. And I told you a million times already – no, we didn't break up!"

"Four," I replied stubbornly. "You only said it four times."

He gave me an exasperated glare, and I fixed a look of the same kind on him. The cursed boy needed to get a taste of his own medicine. James had cast a _Lumos _spell earlier on and placed his wand in his shirt pocket to give the confined space some light, so we were able to see each other's faces with relative clarity. I said, "And, four is an unlucky number in Chinese culture,might I add. Does that not _say_ anything? Does that not…"

I knew I was blabbering nonsense then, but I was so sure about what I had heard him say back in the library. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin KILL me. And not only that – I could've SWORN that the look on his face had said it all as well. _Broke up with her. _Honestly, I couldn't really have an ear infection, could I? Both sides of my family have had minimal ear issues – none that I can recall. Good ears make good listeners.

I am a good listener.

"Fine," he snapped. "I'll say it again – _we didn't break up._ Happy now?"

Am I happy? AM I HAPPY?

Are you daft?

I am mildly embarrassed to say that I started crying then – crying with loud, infectious, snivelly tears.

I know, I disgust myself – and you as well, probably. But facts are facts, and this time the fact was that I was incredibly upset over James Potter not being single.

From the time I began the process of self-humiliation, eternally damning myself to the pathetic ranks with that imaginary SHE'S A DESPERATE LOSER label plastered across my forehead, to the time when his same hand slapped itself across my mouth again, about only half a second had passed.

And then came the heavenly, honey warm words. They were spoken in a rather pained and frantic voice, I must say – not the polite indifference that I would've preferred. However, I've really no reason to be picky now.

"Okay, _okay_, you caught me out then," the Voice (yes, it even deserves to be elevated to a proper noun) of all voices said – or rather, whispered. "We did break up, but you need to shut your bloody trap before Filch or anybody else hears us."

I knew a very appealing method in which I was able to silence the both of us, but didn't put it into action. I'd much rather preserve my dignity _and _a perfectly lovely bloke friend than risk a stunned rejection.

Or even worse, a stunned delight. How would my nerves be able to cope with _that_?

"So let's get this straight," I whispered back, hastily wiping away the tears on my face with my right pyjama sleeve. Hopefully he'd forget about it soon. "You broke up with Rhiannon yesterday, but then you were too chicken today to face her, so you called in a favour from Madame Pomfrey to hide away at the Hospital Wing?"

He screwed his nose and replied, "You make it sound so bad. I wasn't _chicken, _I was just—"

"Too scared to see her. Yeah. So why exactly did Madame Pomfrey owe you?"

James smirked. "Don't worry."

Merlin, do I _hate _it when people say that.

I frowned. "Are you sure that you weren't looking for me earlier today?"

"Evans, don't flatter yourself," he snorted. "I don't think about you all the time, you know."

Something about his tone – the emphasis on the 'all' – caught me off guard. If hearts could explode, then mine would have been throbbing happily away on the ground when he spoke. However, since that's obviously not possible, it simply resorted to beating very, very fast against my chest.

Oh, James Potter. The woes of my life.

And if that wasn't enough, my hands and forehead all of a sudden began to sweat, which was rather disgusting given the proximity to me that my future love was then situated at. Hopefully smell didn't drive him away; it wasn't as if I could conjure up some perfume or deodorant without him realising.

"So," I said quickly in an attempt to distract him from whatever his nasal functions may have been detecting at the while, "what was with Alice, then? Why would the little cretin just lie to me?"

"It's an incredibly amusing, you know – irritating you."

I pointedly mastered a glare that sent virtual daggers across his way, crossing my arms to communicate my disapproval. He was apparently unaffected by my annoyance – or perhaps, as he had said just before, he was finding amusement out of it.

Finding amusement out of irritating Lily Evans – well, wasn't that just such a newfound hobby. NOT.

I was beginning to find it increasingly difficult not to ask the thing that had been bugging me all this while – really, _why _did he break up with Rhiannon? She was just so nice and loveable, and not the usual prissy kind of girl that often made their affection known to James. Rhiannon was just—

"Lovely," said James, tucking something away into his pocket.

Well yes, she _was _lovely, but I hardly thought that that was what James had been meaning to say.

What a spooky coincidence.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Coast's clear. Let's get out."

"What? NO!" I cried, quickly grabbing a hold of his arm before the stupid _thing _tried to run away again. "We can't leave now!"

"Why?" he replied with a degree of amusement. "Enjoying the snug environment here?"

Shut up with the incessant flirting now, Mr. Potter. It's becoming almost torturous now.

"I need answers," I snapped.

James rolled his eyes. "I've given you answers already."

The little liar.

I glared at him. "You have _not. _All you've done is make things even more confusing."

"Well it's none of your business!"

"It so is," I argued, even though I knew that it really wasn't in any way.

James sighed, instinctually running his fingers through a chunk of hair. He grumbled, "Okay then, princess. What do you want to know?"

What?

What did I – what did I want to know?

My face revealed a blank, shocked expression. The question had caught me off guard. _Really _off guard. I hadn't actually expected him to give in so easily.

He was really being so unJames-like lately. This change in his character, unfortunately, just seemed to work against me (like everything else in this world) and made me look ridiculously stupid, like a gnome or something.

Hm, gnome – yes, that was very fitting. I was a gnome.

How irritating.

_What do you want to know? _he-who-thinks-he's-so-cool asks. Gosh, what a loaded question. I don't think that there was anything that I _didn't _want to know. Why was Alice acting strange? Why did James hug me all out of the blue back in the library before? And why did he initially lie to me when I asked him about him and Rhiannon breaking up?

But most importantly, WHY IN MERLIN'S BLOODY PANTS DID HE BREAK UP WITH HER IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Okay, I'm sorry. I really must stop asking that question over and over; it must be so annoying to keep on reading. But I just _despise _mysteries, and especially this one! They are really the most terrible thing on this Earth, and if I were to have the choice of making anything happen, it'd be bringing about the eradication of mysteries.

Well, after establishing word peace. And eliminating hunger.

Resolution: Stop asking annoying questions to whoever might be reading this (if there are actually any at all), and shut your stupid mouth. Or, er, hand that is writing this.

James' voice brought me out of my thoughts. "You want to know why I broke up with her, don't you?" he said in a flat voice.

Oh dear. Have I really been that obvious?

I didn't push his limits with a "Yes, that's _exactly_ what's been bugging my mind!" or even an unconvincing "No… uh, not at all, what are you talking about?" because I had detected a change in the tone of his voice, and that change warned me not to pursue the issue any further.

Damn. But I _did _care about James, you know – so I gave the boy a hug. Answers could come later.

Yeah. By Merlin, I'd make sure that they would.

Looking back now, the hug was a very bad idea. For one, the boy's chest was just comfortable beyond belief_. _I was so tempted to keep my face there, inhaling the fresh and drugging scent that I couldn't put any adjective to but simply… _James. _He smelled so bloody good.

Uh, I mean, Remus Lupin smelled good. I was thinking of Remus all that while during that embrace. Mind overpowering the senses and all, you know?

Oh, to hell with this. Who am I even kidding?

Remus is just a lovely guy – a very good-looking lovely guy at that, who in an IDEAL world I would be happily married to in several years' time. James on the other hand…

I hate life. But back to what I was saying.

So on top of my embarrassing discovery of how lovely the boy smelled, James could've also realised how unusually warm my face was and wondered why this was the case. Of course then he would come to the inevitable conclusion that I actually liked him in a not-so-platonic way.

Oh, wait. My cover for that had already been destroyed by my bursting into tears after he told me that he and Rhiannon hadn't broken up.

Great.

I don't know what time it was then – probably around ten or eleven o'clock at night. It was late, for sure, certainly after hours. If anybody was outside they certainly would've heard us, and knowing the likes of Filch we'd undoubtedly be given a harsh punishment for it. Broom cupboards _and _Head students (I was certain that the old man harboured a grudge against me, though I wasn't at all sure why that was the case) _and _discovered after hours – not a good combination for us. I don't think that there could be any explanation which held the slightest degree of reputability for discovering Hogwarts' two Head students huddled up in a broom cupboard at such a late hour of the night.

In other words, we were in a dangerous situation – treading on _very _thin ice.

Which made it even the more shocking when James, not uttering a single word, extended his hand out to place a shaky finger beneath my chin and lift my face up slightly to meet his burning gaze.

I froze.

I was speechless; it seemed that I had forgotten how to breathe. I felt as if the only thing that was holding me up was the simultaneously hot and cool touch of James' finger at my chin. All I could take in was those deep hazel brown eyes. They were regarding me seriously – shining with a dark sort of intensity, visible beneath the dim light from the wand in his shirt pocket.

"Lily," he finally whispered after an extended period of silence, and his voice came out in a hoarse tone. "Lily, I…"

I couldn't muster a response. Neither could I will myself to move as James' face tilted to one side and, painstakingly slowly, came down close to mine.

Till our lips had almost touched.

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**ILOVEYOUILOVEYOU and hopefully the next update won't be nearly as long a wait as the last one was! **

**(Have I mentioned that I do love you all _terribly_?)**

**~ birchermuesli**


	9. Interruptions, Worrying and Snog Lists

**Greetings, _mis amigos_. :) So, the general consensus I received from the last chapter was that the cliffhanger irritated you – a lot – and I think some of you were just about ready to physically threaten me in my sleep if I didn't stop them. There actually was a reason for that "Till our lips had ALMOST touched" – because really, who says "almost touched"? Makes the writer seem far too desperate to illicit a response from the audience, if you ask me. **

**I probably should've told you that at the end of that last chapter… whoopsies. :P**

**So I looked like that kind of desperate writer, did I? Hooray for life! But anyway, I've decided not to end anything in a cliffhanger for the next three chapters.**

**Yes, three. Keep me to it, will you?**

**Congratulations. You've successfully managed to mob-bully me into submission… on the internet. How is that even possible?**

**Enjoy!**

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Featured Reviews:

"If cliffhanger (read: incentive for reviews and continued reading) prostitution was illegal, you would be in VERY serious trouble right now. And no, using the "I'm not serious, I'm Sirius" pun will not give you a 'get out of jail free' card.

I blame the above rant on the fact that it's extremely late here, my holidays are nearly over and earlier today my minions failed to gain control of the Nutella manufacturers. Sorry about that.

I may not have Nutella, but I control peanut butter. Update or you will never see it again.

I'll just go now. *slinks off quietly into background*

*pops head round corner*

Peanut butter. Just saying." - _SarcasmAtItsFinest_

"Gros bisous de France! J'adore ton histoire et je partage ta vision du couple Lily/James!" - _Emma714 _**(A/N: I don't even care if this isn't funny. It's in French. Can I marry you?)**

"They're going to be STUCK like that until the next update, slooooowly atrophying in a cost broom cupboard for goodness knows how long in Hogwartian years until they are eventually discovered, limbs paralyser through lack of use, by some amorous third years who barge into other people's stories. But, it being James and Lily, they'll probably enjoy it." - _MandyJane_

"I'm babbling again, aren't I? Note to self: Stop doing that. Otherwise the risk of boring your audience to death increases by 84.97%"_ - LunaxNight_

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**Chapter Nine: Interruptions, Worrying and Snog Lists**

And then the door opened.

Before I could wonder over the identity of the daft person who had interrupted the moment, Emmeline's face loomed in front of us. "Guys!" she panted. "Where the hell have – oh." Finally, her eyes registered our presence.

Yes, 'our' presence. James' and mine, who were about to freaking SNOG.

A myriad of emotions passed through her face in those next few moments – shock, confusion, a sudden flicker of understanding (what did that mean?), shock again... more shock…

"Um," she finally stuttered. "Oh my gosh, I didn't realise, I'm so sor—"

"For fuck's sake," snapped James, and slammed the broom cupboard door shut again. Merlin, what shocking language. I'd have to reprimand him for that later on. James paid no attention to the annoyed cry that issued from outside the enclosed space we were in, and instead opted to turn back to me.

Okay, calm down there.

"James," I said, eyes widening. "James, perhaps it's not such a good idea to—"

"Stop being too smart for your own good," he muttered, his eyes showing an unidentifiable emotion which I couldn't put a finger to. And before I could wonder over what he meant by that cryptic statement, I found myself being pushed up abruptly one of the walls of the cupboard (can cupboards even have walls?). Another hand had come behind my head to cushion the impact – and also to stop me from being able to sneak away, as I discovered soon after, as he once again lowered his lips down onto mine.

For real, this time.

My heart stopped. No, really – it did.

I responded to the kiss almost immediately (after a short moment of unsuccessfully trying to get over a swimming head), feeling my knees turn weak at his touch as he shifted one hand from my chest to the small of my back. With a rather ridiculously load moan I arched my body to strain further close to him as his lips pressed themselves once more to mine.

By Merlin, I was _so _whipped. This was bad.

James stopped for a short moment, turning his mouth to my right ear. I think a couple of whimpers may have issued from my mouth. Ugh, how embarrassing.

"You have no idea," came his whisper, "how long I've been wanting to do this."

Normally I would've tried to come up with some smart-arse witty response to that, but unfortunately I was shaking and hyperventilating (well, the good sort of hyperventilating) too much to even think about doing so.

I do not really want to ruin the experience by recounting _exactly_ how it went about. However, I am rather interested to see whether it was, technically speaking, an Amazing Kiss. Hell, it certainly FELT like one. There should be some measuring scale of sorts.

Should I construct one now? I think I will.

* * *

**Criterion 1: Top 5 Emotions During the James Potter Kiss (in sequential order)**

_List top 5 emotions experienced during the snog, and rate each out of 2 points. Tally the total at the end for a possible maximum of 10 points. _

1. Astonishment. **(+ 1)**

2. Delight. **(+ 2)**

3. The feeling where you're thinking oh-my-God-James-Potter-is-snogging-me-after-all-this-time. **(+ 2)**

4. The feeling where one half of you is in Heaven and the other half begins to mull over what would actually happen once we got out of this cupboard. **(+ 1)**

5. Worry. A lot of worry. **(+ 0)**

_Rating: 6 out of 10. _

**Criterion 2: Things that Happened During the James Potter Kiss (not necessarily in sequential order):**

_List top 5 events that occurred or actions that were carried out during the snog, and rate each out of 5 points according to enjoyment factor. Tally the total at the end for a possible maximum of 25 points. _

1. Normal lip kissing – everything starts off the same, you know. **(+ 5)**

2. The uttering of many swear words in the heat of the moment – from James, of course. I'm appalled that you would expect anything as disgusting as that could even _possibly _come from me. **(+ 2.5)**

3. Okay, I'm slightly ashamed to admit – neck kisses. Never really realised how desperate I was. ("Slaggy," Alice would say with an innocent smile. That girl needs to get a life.) Normally I DESPISE neck kisses, but James seemed to make them… kind of nice. **(+ 4)**

4. Lots of hair-grabbing. **(+ 3)**

6. Clinging – me clinging to his hair, shoulders, back, arms… oh Merlin, this is just getting humiliating for me. I never realised that James didn't cling onto me! Maybe it's because he's taller? **(+ 3)**

_Rating: 17.5 out of 25. _

**Overall Rating: 23.5 out of 35 = 67%.**

Um, ew.

Hm, not _so_ amazing after all? I'd much rather be averaging around eighty or ninety percent each time. It'd be a much more productive use of my time. Kissing takes up time, and time is money. Not that I have a job right now.

Guess we'll just have to work on that.

* * *

I swear everything in my life is a cliché. Because really, who gets their first real and meaningfulkiss in a rudding BROOM CUPBOARD?

A broom cupboard. Am I really that depressing of a creature?

* * *

Well, I'm going to be completely honest here – after we'd finished (how long would that have taken? Ten minutes, an hour? Two?) I wouldn't let James leave.

Yes, that's right – I physically DID NOT allow him to leave.

"Why?" he had protested in an exasperated tone. And I didn't really blame him, though he should've expected something like this after snogging such a nutter like me.

"Because," I'd replied stubbornly.

"Because?"

Because I'm scared to face reality, you arse.

But because I'm obviously too chicken to say that, I tried to shoot him a pair of imploring eyes which was rather difficult given the limited light we had, and said quietly, "Please. Otherwise things will be so… complicated. And it's late, I want to sleep."

Which was true, you know.

I crossed my fingers and hoped to – well, I didn't hope to die. Just crossed my fingers.

James' eyes widened for a couple of moments and I could see him visibly swallow. Instinctually, he brought a hand to the back of his head. "Um," he said, his voice coming out a little shakier than usual, like it had before Emmeline interrupted us. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

I smiled at him with a feigned fatigue and then conjured a sleeping bag for myself. I curled up, facing away from him. James seemed to be really confused over what sort of "bullshit cocoon" I'd wrapped myself up in.

Psh, wizards.

Anyway, so I've been up awake all night – thinking, freaking out, writing this. James fell asleep (I think) after a couple of restless hours, so he's been still ever since.

I checked my watch – it was five o'clock. Perfect, I could make my sneaky escape without having to face an awkward moment with James when he woke up. I took one last long glance at his still face and blinked several times over.

No, my heart did not just triple its rate. Stop it with the unfair accusations.

I stood up silently, pushing the door open ever so slightly and stepping out into the empty hallway with trembling legs. I sighed a breath of relief when I looked over at his curled figure again – he was still sleeping. Phew. So I shut the door as quietly as was humanly possible (according to my standards, that is) and turned away from the broom cupboard, breathing softly. For several seconds I just stood there, mulling over the events of last night.

Then I ran.

**To-Do List:**

1. Find Emmeline, apologise for our strange behaviour last night, and concoct appropriate story for the suspicious position James and I were in when she found us.

2. Whilst concocting aforementioned appropriate story, subtly ask whether she had stayed outside the broom cupboard after James shut it on her face.

3. If her answer to the previous question is to be affirmative, find nearest window and hurl self out.

4. Give James lecture on the potential negative side effects of bad language. A foul mouth leads to foul kisses. (Well, it may have actually made things a little hotter. Only a _little, _I said! Oh, bloody hell. Let's just not think about it, shall we?)

* * *

James spotted me almost immediately as I headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I didn't think that he'd have woken up so quickly.

Damn.

His hair was messy, sticking up at all different ends, but I couldn't bring myself to say that it looked bad, because it didn't. In fact, if I were still my innocent prior-to-kissing-James self, I'd probably spend the next few paragraphs gushing over how amazing it looked.

_Now _though, just looking at it gave me butterflies in my stomach. Not the good kind of I-think-I've-got-a-crush butterflies, more the I-would-feel-terribly-sick-now-if-the-thought-of-you-didn't-make-me-feel-so-damn-happy.

What is wrong with me? I rant on about the stupid boy for MONTHS on end, and now when I finally get a chance to be with him, I freak out?

WHY DOES HE EVEN LIKE ME, ANYWAY?

Before I could think further, James appeared by my side with that stupidly attractive hair of his. He smiled, eyes twinkling.

Can eyes even twinkle?

They were mocking me, that's what.

"Hey," he breathed, tipping my chin up with the tip of his index finger to bring my gaze across to his. The action reminded me too much of what had happened last night before, uh, certain parts of our face had made contact. "Why'd you run off on me this morning?" He obviously wasn't expecting a negative answer, because he'd backed off that question with another smile (more butterflies) and a small laugh (bigger butterflies).

I flinched, quickly shaking his finger away so I wouldn't have to stare into those hazel eyes again. "Um," I stuttered, "about last night…"

James' smile faltered.

_About last night, don't you think it'd be rather nice if we just skipped school today to re-enact those twenty minutes, or half hour, or however long the Contact Between Specific Parts of our Faces lasted?_

"…let's just kind of, well, forget about it for a couple of days, shall we?"

Wait, what?

"What?" said James flatly, mirroring my thoughts.

"I just—"

"_What_ did you just say?"

"I said that—"

"You want me to just _forget _about it?"

"No, not like that_, _just—"

"What is this, some kind of joke?"

"NO!" I exclaimed, probably too loudly because a couple of First or Second Year Ravenclaws looked up from their tables towards me with curious glances. I hissed in a quieter voice, "I swear I'm not bailing on you! I just need time to…"

"Think?" James finished off sarcastically.

I bit my lip and looked down at my feet. "Yeah."

I felt terrible. Absolutely _terrible. _Is this what 'leading somebody on' is called? Am I a classified slag now?

After what seemed like an eternity, James sighed in an exasperated manner and nodded stiffly. "Fine," he said. He reached to tuck some stray strands of hair behind my ear.

Oh Merlin.

My breath caught as his hand accidentally brushed against my cheek – or perhaps it was intentional, who knows? It sure did sound like the kind of thing that somebody like _him_ would do.

Whatever the case, James had noticed the sudden tenseness in my demeanour. He narrowed his eyes slightly – not in an accusatory manner, more in that way when you're trying to figure something out. Gosh, I hope he didn't try to figure me out. That was just an impossible feat to even BEGIN with.

I was rooted to the spot by the Gryffindor table. Feeling his beady gaze on me, I shifted my eyes to a plate of pancakes. If Alice hadn't stupidly thought it necessary to tell me about James' ankle last night, then none of this would've happened and I'd be eating them happily right now – just like on any other ordinary morning.

"Hm," said James, breaking the silence. "Are you sure you want to do this thinking thing?"

I felt, once again, my hair being tucked behind my ear. Embarrassing and ridiculously telling as it was, I couldn't help but jolt as if receiving an electric shock.

"Uh, yes," I replied with a faltering voice, still staring resolutely at the plate of pancakes. "I'm – sure. Very sure."

More silence.

"Okay then," I heard James say.

I sighed in relief. But then from the corner of my vision, I saw him take a step closer. My eyes snapped towards his again, and my heart took an extra loud thump against my chest. James' expression gave nothing away.

And then his face was descending closer and closer to mine, and my eyes were widening and my heartbeat increasing—

He stopped a few inches away. It was all I could do to _not _edge just a little further up to close the space between us. James' eyes were bright – shining, even. "You absolutely sure?" he whispered, hot breath tickling my face. His thumb brushed lightly against the corner of my lip.

My eyes widened in panic. I was never supposed to be one of those girls who turned into mush over good-looking guys!

"Y-yes," I stammered.

James gave me one last long look and then withdrew, straightening up and dropping his arm. A cold feeling swept across me. "Okay," he said, with a hint of a smile on his lips. "I'll see you at class then."

And then he walked off.

WALKED OFF – just like that! All I could do was stand there, staring dumbly at his perfectly sculpted back. My mind felt numb.

Why was he even wearing a shirt?

I really could not ever hate him more than I did right now.

**Resolution: **Do not fall for Potter's ridiculous seducing act, unless with the wish to lose all self-pride.

* * *

**So on another note, I watched the midnight premiere of the Deathly Hallows at IMAX! **

**My life is now complete.**

**But I have this gaping hole in my heart that's gasping out, "I am a gaping hole in your heart! There's no more Harry Potter left, so your life can't REALLY be complete!" I just can't believe it's actually possible to have such mixed feelings towards the end of a movie - like, holy crap, that was amazing, but holy crap at the same time, Harry Potter has ended.**

**Anyway, I should stop ranting now. Hope you enjoyed that chapter (with the ABSENCE of a cliffhanger) and have a fantabulous day. Love you all. :)**

**~ birchermuesli**


	10. The Ugly Art of Thinking

**And a good day to you all again! Let's keep it short and snappy; I'm kind of running on a disgustingly tight schedule here. *dies* **

**Thank you SO so much to you reviewers, favouriters, alerters... you legends know all who you are. ;) So sorry that I haven't been able to reply to any reviews lately, give me a couple of virtual slaps if it makes you feel better. **

**But of _course_ you know that I'll always love you. :)**

* * *

Featured Reviews:

"I'm eating my frosted blueberry pop-tart, occasionally taking a sip of milk... I then read that they kiss and I spew milk out of my nose all over my computer screen." – _JustAnotherWeasleyGirl_ **(A/N: I do hope your nose is okay; it would be quite a shame if it wasn't. I do enjoy noses terribly.)**

Well, you know what they say... I don't really have a proverb to add into this review. – _Dork with a fork_ (**A/N: Haha, LOVE your name. Can I be Dork with a knife?)**

"Hey, I'm all for the painful cliffhangers. Apparently I just enjoy having my heart ripped to shreds." _– MixItUp_ **(A/N: Apparently we have something in common, MixItUp. Let's draw a Venn Diagram, woohoo!)**

* * *

**Chapter Ten - The Ugly Art of Thinking:**

A few hours later, the _real _question hit me in the middle of Transfiguration class.

Why, in the name of Merlin's baggy pants, was James Potter snogging me within just a DAY of ending what seemed to be a very healthy and thriving non-platonic relationship with the perfectly lovely Rhiannon deLoreche?

Even if – and I emphasise the _if_ in this sentence – he liked me whilst still dating Rhiannon, he couldn't really be as cold and heartless as to make his actual sentiments known _immediately_ after breaking up with her, could he?

Could he?

That would be just… mean of him. Really mean.

So _if_ this was true, it would then follow that James Potter was quite an uncaring and inconsiderate person. Meaning that I shouldn't date him, which went against everything my stupid, clichéd throbbing heart seemed to think.

Meaning that I wouldn't have the chance to try to improve our appalling 67% kiss rating.

"Miss Evans?" McGonagall's stern voice brought me back out of my reverie.

My face immediately heated up. I glanced towards the piece of parchment that I'd supposed to be writing notes on – it was entirely blank, save for a little accidental squiggle on the corner my right hand had made.

Whoops. And Transfiguration isn't even my best subject.

Inwardly cringing, I peeked up to McGonagall's stern face by my table. I was generally a good… _ish _student, so with a bit of luck I'd get away with just a quick reprimanding.

"You are doing your Transfiguration N.E.W.T. this year, no?" McGonagall said, with a glint of danger in the tone of her voice.

So it seemed I wasn't going to be let off easily. Ugh, today really wasn't my day, was it?

"Yes, I am," was my careful reply.

"And would you happen to know how exactly to cast a Vanishing Spell?"

"Uh, no I do not, Professor."

In fact, I didn't even have the slightest clue how to cast a Vanishing Spell, let alone how _exactly _to cast one. I knew what they were, of course (well, any idiot would know). But the whole flicking of wands with weird motions and strange incantations? Transfiguration just wasn't my cup of tea.

And I _do_ love tea terribly.

Especially English Breakfast.

McGonagall straightened up again and began to walk towards the front of the classroom. "Then I suggest that you stop daydreaming about whatever you deem to be more important than this class and start listening," she said. "Seventh Years have oftentimes found themselves falling behind when it was too late, thus achieving much less than satisfactory final grades for their examination. I do not think that you are one that wishes to be remembered as one of these students, Miss Evans."

I could just hear the implied meaning in her voice: _Continue to lose concentration in class, and you won't pass with good enough marks to become that Auror you've always wanted to be. I had expected to see more in a Head Girl._

Normally the reprimanding wouldn't have bothered me so much, but after all the drama of last night and today…

Sigh.

Stupidly enough, I felt like bursting into tears then and there. I averted my gaze down to my lap. "Yes, Professor," I mumbled.

* * *

"Look, I'm telling you," said Alice patiently as we walked out of class along with the other Seventh Years, "it's completely normal to get told off by McGonagall like that. She does it to everybody, I'm surprised that it's taken you almost seven years to realise that."

"No," I argued, "this time was different." I looked miserably at the large staircase ahead of me and began to climb up it after her, slowly. "She hates me now, I swear."

Alice scoffed. "She does not."

"Does _so_!"

"She does NOT." Alice stopped walking, bringing me to a halt mid-step with her. She looked at me with a perplexed expression. "Sheesh Lil, what's gotten you into such a bad mood today?"

Am I really that obvious to everybody?

But how would Alice even know that something was different? She hadn't even seen me today, except for during that class, but — oh, bloody hell. If James told her _anything_…

"Bad mood?" I replied in a stiff tone. "I have no idea what you mean."

"I'm sure you don't," she said dryly. I tried to get past her, but the little cretin simply sidestepped to block my way. Curse my parents for giving me the shorter genes!

"Lil, _seriously,_" snapped Alice. She crossed her arms. "Don't forget that I've lived with you for six years. I can read you like a book."

"You don't read any books," I pointed out.

Her jaw hardened and she flashed me a piercing, don't-you-dare-mess-with-me glare with those bright blue eyes.

Oh dear. Oh deary me.

"Not any that I know of," I added hastily, "but for all I know, you could've been secretly reading your heart away all these years."

Alice remained in her position as still as a statue – crossed arms, furious eyes. "Really now?" she said through gritted teeth.

I continued to ramble on, pushing her up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room as quickly as I could manage. "And uh, forgive me for saying this, but I too have lived with you for six years and can _actually _read you like a book – _Pride and Prejudice_, let's say – and have gathered over the years through many painful experiences that when your jaw hardens and you start glaring at me like that time in Third Year when I accidentally told everybody you were crushing on Amos Diggory, you're approximately twenty-one seconds away from snapping my head off. Figuratively of course," I finished with a nervous laugh.

"Not figuratively if you don't stop being this so bloody secretive already," she muttered.

We reached the portrait hole. "Fairy cakes," I rushed to the Fat Lady. "And make it quick, please."

I still didn't know how I was meant to start telling her everything when I dragged her up to the Seventh Year Girls' Dormitory and took a seat in the middle of my bed with her. So I decided to try to lighten the atmosphere with a bit of wit. It's worked before – uh, well, kind of.

"You see," I explained to her with a joking grin, "this is the problem with having moody mates like you. Everything gets so complicated and dramatic. But then again, with me being me_, _I guess I've no right to be picky. Otherwise my only friend would be my diary, and that'd be a pretty terrible only friend to have, eh?"

A few tense moments (tense for me, anyway) passed where I contemplated whether I should stay on the bed or run away for dear life, before finally Alice gave a long sigh. She raised her head to face me and smiled back, the tension having almost disappeared from her face. "You, Lily Evans, are a moron," she muttered, shaking her head. Then she began to tie her straight blonde hair up into a low side ponytail.

It looked perfect. Why couldn't _I _be the one blessed with those kinds of genes?

Inwardly, I sighed a breath of relief. Now that I'd calmed her down, I could now proceed onto changing the subject.

See? I _was _incredibly skilled at this art. Practice makes perfect, my friends. "Normally I'd be offended by such insults from a so-called mate," I said loftily, "but—"

"Your diary wouldn't be your _only _friend, though," continued Alice. "You've got other people."

So maybe practice doesn't make perfect.

I frowned. What was that silly nutter on about now? "Yeah," I said slowly, "but I'm talking really close friends, you know, like—"

"Mm hm," nodded Alice, "you've still got other people."

I looked at her, puzzled. Then after several seconds, her meaning finally dawned upon me. "Oh!" I laughed. "You mean Emmeline? Well yeah, but _apart _from her—"

Alice gave me a lazy smile, and that was when I knew she had a surprise in store for me — and I was suspecting that it wasn't going to be a very pleasant one. "Nah," she said with a sickly sweet tone, "you'd still have James. Right, Lily?"

I froze.

_What?_

Did I mishear her, perhaps? (But I'm a good listener!) There was NO way, absolutely _no _way…

Alice maintained her steadfast gaze and repeated, "Isn't that right, Lil?"

My mouth opened and closed several times over. "W-what?" I finally stumbled. "Sorry, who?"

"James."

"You mean _Potter?_"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Potter if you wish, but there's really no difference."

"He's not my friend," I said quickly, finding myself unable to hold her gaze. Then I added on hastily, "Not a close one, at any rate."

Alice nodded thoughtfully. "Hm," she said. "I really wasn't aware that snogging in broom cupboards and then staying the entire night there was a common practice with one's not-so-close friends."

Oh, crap.

Should I run? Should I cast a Vanishing Spell on myself?

Oh, wait. I didn't _know _how to cast one – because _I wasn't rudding listening in class!_

Now THAT is karma. THAT is why we must listen in class and do well at school.

I finally settled for an outraged glare, which didn't really help owing to the fact that Alice wasn't even looking at me; she'd begun to cackle away to herself like an old warty witch. What an utter moron. "How did you know?" I snapped, my cheeks burning a nasty shade of red.

Alice finished laughing and turned to me. "Know what?"

"That I kissed James!"

She looked confused. "What?"

My eyes narrowed. "That," I said slowly, "I kissed James."

She gave a look of feigned surprise. "Sorry, who?"

"JAMES!"

"Oh," she said, beginning to cackle again. Mimicking me, she squeaked, "You mean _Potter_?"

I gritted my teeth. "Yes. Potter."

"The one who's supposedly not your friend but who you snog in broom cupboards at night?"

Oh, har-di-har-har.

"Very funny," I snapped, delivering her a swift blow on the arm. It didn't even momentarily stop her from laughing. I'd have to learn how to slap people harder. Maybe that way they'd take me more seriously. (Yeah, right. Fat chance of THAT happening.) "And it's broom _cupboard, _for your information. It's only happened once."

"Why do I detect a tone of regret in your voice?"

"You do NOT detect a tone of regret in my voice!"

She just continued to laugh. I opened my mouth in protest, but before I managed to speak, a strange thought popped into my mind – if Alice already knew about James and me, why would she have even been mad at me in the first place?

Psh, moody children.

"Alice," I said edgily.

"Lily," she mimicked, pulling her face down to elongate it in the most ridiculous manner.

I screwed my nose in distaste. "You look like a horse."

"Oh, but this is the same expression that you pull whenever you're writing in that silly diary of yours."

I wish she would just shut up.

Gosh, what a crappy mate. I'd have to go pick up some new ones tomorrow morning.

"_Anyway,_" I glared, "were you even mad at me before when you were doing the whole jaw-and-glare thing? I mean, it just doesn't make sense. You already knew, so why would you—"

I stopped mid-sentence when Alice took to rolling her eyes. She said, "You realise that half the time I supposedly do this jaw-and-glare thing you speak of, I'm actually just trying to get you to tell me something? You beat around the bush _far _too much for everybody's liking." Then she grinned cheekily. "Except for James', of course."

For Merlin's sake.

"Where's Emmeline?" I snapped. "I desire the company of a REAL mate right now."

"Now now, Lilykins, are you absolutely sure that she's a 'real' mate of yours? Emmeline was in fact the very one who told me about you and James' little heated encounter."

"She WHAT?"

Alice raised an eyebrow. "And here I was thinking that you were the most intelligent one of our lot."

"That little traitor!"

"Clearly I was wrong."

"I'm going to _strangle_ that girl next time I see her pretty little face!"

"And now you're starting to worry me."

"Now, where's Black?"

"You mean Sirius?"

"No, Regulus," I retorted sarcastically. "Of course I'm talking about Sirius, woman."

Alice snorted, evidently amused by my snappy character. Psh, how inconsiderate.

It's okay, though. I'm safe in the knowledge that karma will get to her one day, just like it has for me. That way, Frank Longbottom will discover that she's head over heels for him, and they'll get together and marry, and have children and such.

Hm, wait, but that's GOOD for her.

Maybe the whole concept of karma only exists for me.

"Why would you want to know where Sirius is?" she asked.

"Because where there's Sirius, there's Emmeline," I said, rolling my eyes. "Haven't you noticed? He's absolutely besotted over that girl."

"Oh, right, I get what you mean. Well, I think I saw him heading down the way to the kitchens along with Trent Nottington after class, but I've not the faintest clue why."

Trent Nottington. Now, why did that name ring a bell?

"Hm," I said. "Isn't he that really good-looking Seventh Year? Light brown hair, green eyes, captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team?"

"Yeah," replied Alice with a smirk. "You had a crush on him in Second Year."

Oh. That would be why I'd lined all my Charms notes from that year with borders full of little love hearts. Merlin, talk about _embarrassing_.

"I don't think James likes him much," she continued. "He engaged in quite a handful of duels with him back then, don't you remember?"

Ew, can we please not talk about this? I have some MUCH more important issues to attend to.

"Uh, that's great," I said. "So you're sure Sirius is down at the kitchens, right?"

"Not _absolutely _sure, but as I said, I did see him walk down that way—"

"Cool, see you later then!" I jumped out of bed and zoomed straight out of the dormitory without giving even her the chance to protest.

Ha, brilliant. I've always wanted to do that. Feels so suave, don't you think?

No? Okay then. Maybe my readers are just SO much more sophisticated and _debonair _(I love saying that word out loud with a terrible French accent) than me. Anyhow, I was still more _debonair _than Alice because _she _didn't get the real reason why I wanted to see Sirius. Because what I said was true – where there's Sirius, it's quite likely that Emmeline's nearby.

But much more obviously, and I'm surprised she didn't pick up on this, where there's Sirius, there's almost ALWAYS James. And right at this moment, I wanted James.

Why? Honestly, I've no clue. At any rate, not for any of the reasons that YOU silly love-oriented folk were thinking, pah!

Well, I hope not, anyway.

**To-Do:**

1. Find Sirius. Make up some vague Head Duties excuse to get to James.

2. If James is not nearby, then find Emmeline and promptly throw most ferocious glare upon her. Because, simply put, telling one's best mate about one's other best mate's snog without her permission is just NOT acceptable when this aforementioned other best mate is me.

3. Learn how to slap people better. Perhaps James or Sirius could help.

4. Once having learnt how to slap people well to illicit at least a couple of grumbling 'ow's, slap Emmeline.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed, and I really do appreciate all these little comments you've been posting. They've all been read with a wide, nutty smile - admittedly, most at six o'clock in the morning when I've been still half asleep. BEST starter to the day though, Siriusly.**

**Have a fantabulous day, and I'll see you soon!**

**~ birchermuesli **


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